Estrangesters
by Ostragoth
Summary: Daria really misses yesterday's problems. Chapter Nine up!
1. Chapter One

ESTRANGESTERS  
by Ostragoth

Jane Lane descended the stairs still pulling her shirt on, and hurriedly started a pot of coffee. Then she sat down and began putting on her boots. The new girl was going to come by on her way to school this morning. Jane tried to remember the last time she'd looked forward to an acquaintance coming over, and then realized that there were no such times for her to remember.

Jane had never made friends easily. She'd always been too perceptive, too quick to see the inconsistencies and stupidities of life, and the foibles and hypocrisies of people. And she'd never been good at keeping her observations to herself. It was amazing how quickly an offhand remark or two could drive people away. But this new girl, far from being put off by Jane's sarcastic observations, seemed actually to appreciate them.

They'd spent the last couple of days exchanging small talk and warily probing each other's defenses, and had exchanged notes and drawings in self-esteem class yesterday afternoon. That had been fun. On the walk home, they'd talked more freely and gotten to know each other better, and Daria had said she'd come by this morning so they could walk to school together.

A few minutes later, with a spoon and two forks stuck in her scalding hot mug of coffee to cool it quicker, Jane wolfed down some cereal as she thought about Daria. Strange girl, she thought. Sarcastic as hell when she wanted to be, but basically nice enough. Smart as hell, too, but… strange. Jane pulled the hardware out of her mug of coffee and took a cautious sip. A good kind of strange. But that sister of hers…

The doorbell rang. Jane went to answer it, mug in hand. It was Daria. Jane found herself wondering if it was an effect of the big round glasses that made her eyes seem to look right through her. Then Daria smiled a little smile that made Jane glad she'd gotten out of bed.

"Morning, Jane."

"Hey, Daria! Just a second, while I finish my coffee." Jane took as big a gulp as she could of the still hot brew.

"No rush; I'm a few minutes early. Go ahead and finish your breakfast."

"Naah. I don't eat much for breakfast." Jane finished the mug, set it down on an end table by the door, picked up her bookbag, stepped outside, and locked the door. "Gotta have my caffeine, though."

The corner of Daria's mouth twitched up a bit as they started toward school. "I like my java too, but I have to have a little fuel to get me to lunch, or I start to run down mid morning. Speaking of lunch, please tell me that slop they served in the cafeteria yesterday was an aberration."

"It was. It was better than average."

"Arg. Kill me now."

"Oh, sure. Then who'll kill me? I'm not falling for that one again."

Daria smiled again, a smile that made Jane think of the first faint ray of dawn after a long rainy night. _Maybe this will be a tolerable year after all,_ she thought.

Suddenly aware that they'd been staring at each other for a fraction of a second too long, Jane returned her attention to the sidewalk ahead. She said the first thing that occurred to her. "What is it with that sister of yours? The way guys were following her around, fetching her sodas, and fighting to carry her books, it was almost like some sort of mind control."

"No 'almost' about it," Daria muttered.

"Eh?"

Daria glanced at her, then quickly looked away. "I shouldn't have…" She seemed to come to a decision. "Ahh, screw it. Mind control is exactly what it was, Jane. Quinn promised that she wasn't going to do it anymore when we got to Lawndale, but either she can't stop, or she's decided she doesn't want to."

Jane stared at Daria for several seconds, but the small brunette kept her eyes on the sidewalk ahead. "You're pulling my leg, right?"

Daria considered her answer for a few seconds. "No," she sighed. "You'll no doubt see more blatant examples of it soon enough. She can make most teenage boys do just about anything she wants, short of feeding themselves into a wood chipper. She can influence just about any male short of andropause to some degree. She has somewhat less influence over some girls, and a few older women. You're pretty unusual in that you can see that she's doing it."

"Great green gobs, how did she get a power like that?"

"I think it was the water."

"Huh?"

"We moved here from Highland, Texas. Ever heard of it?"

"Uh, it seems like I've heard the name. It doesn't bring anything to mind, though. Is there something unusual about Highland water?"

"It's contaminated with uranium."

Jane gasped. "Oh! Oh, yeah, I saw something about that on Sick Sad World! They showed these two deformed, brain damaged boys that had these huge, swollen craniums. Poor little bastards."

"Yeah. Beavis and Butthead."

"You knew them?"

"Went to school with them. I hate to admit it, but they were the closest things I had to friends in that awful place. I'd call it the armpit of the continent, but it's too dry."

"Geez! Well, thank goodness your family moved out of there!"

"Yeah," Daria muttered, "but we lived there five years before the uranium contamination was discovered."

"Oh, crap. But you're all right, aren't you? I mean, you don't glow in the dark or anything?"

Daria seemed to wince, then stared silently at the sidewalk in front of her for a few seconds. "My teeth do. Very faint. Greenish."

Jane was silent for several seconds in her turn while that soaked in. "Damn. Way to go, Lane. Open mouth, insert foot."

The corner of Daria's mouth turned up again. "Don't worry about it."

"I guess what I was trying to say is that they probably detected the uranium pretty soon after it showed up, if they're anywhere near competent, so you weren't exposed for very long."

Daria made a faint noise that sounded like a snort. "There aren't any competent people in Highland, Jane. The uranium showed up the first time they ever did the tests right. No one knows how long it was in the water before that."

"Double damn. So you think the uranium in the water is the cause of this ability your sister has? Do the doctors think so too?"

"If you mean the government scientists, she didn't let them find out about it. Quinn has a certain low animal cunning."

"Huh. Well, um if you don't mind my asking…"

"Did they find anything strange about me? Well, I'm pretty smart."

"Yeah, I noticed that in cl… wait a minute. How smart is 'pretty smart'?"

"Pretty smart." After a few seconds, Daria looked up to see that Jane was giving her a suspicious look. "Oh, all right. I'll tell you, but please don't repeat it. In my school records my IQ is listed as 173."

"Wow!"

"…but that's false. Actually, as far as they can determine, I got the highest IQ score of anyone who's ever been tested. It was 289 the last time they measured it, and still rising."


	2. Chapter Two

Estrangesters  
Chapter two

"Ghod! What's it like? I mean, to be that smart?" Jane asked.

"Sometimes it comes in handy, but it's amazing how much of life doesn't require even an average IQ." Daria walked on in silence for a few steps. "Most of the time, I'm just more aware of how bad life sucks than most people. But once in a while it's like… I can see it all."

"You can see it all?"

"It's hard to describe. I feel as if I'm seeing the universe the way God must see it. How it all fits together, how it works. It's just a feeling, of course, and it never takes long to come to something I don't understand, and then I realize what all I don't know, how much I still need to learn. But trying to recapture that feeling keeps me going."

They walked on in silence until they came within sight of the school. Daria muttered, "I can't believe I said all that."

Jane gave her a quizzical look. "Why, wasn't it true?"

"Oh, it's true, all right, but now you won't want to have anything to do with me. I'm a freak. Worse yet, I'm a brainy freak." Daria sighed "Which apparently doesn't help me keep my stupid mouth shut."

Jane looked at the girl walking beside her, who suddenly seemed small and vulnerable. "Apparently you haven't been paying attention in school. Lawndale High is full of freaks, of one sort or another. And until you showed up, almost none of them would talk to me. I'm the weird smartass art chick. My choices are hang out with you, or hang out alone. And since I've been hanging out alone for, oh, pretty much my whole life, I'd like to try hanging out with you."

Daria looked at Jane. "You mean that?" she asked with a catch in her voice.

"Sure do," said Jane. Then, seeing that Daria was beginning to blink rapidly, she added, "Who knows? Enough might rub off on me to bring up my math and science grades," and winked.

Daria studied Jane's face intently for a moment, then broke into a small smile.

...

Shuffling through the lunch line ahead of Daria, Jane passed up the cheery colored Jell-o and selected a dish of chocolate pudding instead. Daria, watching, did the same. She picked up a rudimentary salad consisting entirely of a few pieces of lettuce leaf and a single cherry tomato, and looked inquiringly toward Jane. Jane shrugged. It should be safe enough, but each piece would of course have to be inspected before ingestion. But that went without saying.

As they neared the entrées, Jane mumbled under her breath, "I don't trust the country fried steak. Can't tell what's under all that breading till it's too late. The chow mein comes straight out of cans, so it's safer, if not particularly tasty."

"Sounds prudent," Daria said, indicating chow mein to the server.

...

They sat at an empty table and Daria began opening her milk. Jane scanned the lunchroom with an experienced eye. "Uh-oh. The Lothario of Lawndale High has you on visual. Better access your putdown file."

"Who?" Daria asked in a low voice, apparently inspecting her salad.

"The carrot-top at two o'clock. Charles Ruttheimer. Code name Upchuck."

Glancing surreptitiously in the indicated direction, Daria saw a boy with curly hair the same color as Quinn's, surely an ill omen. He was glancing surreptitiously back at her, with an expression best described as a suppressed leer, and hurriedly finishing his lunch.

"Raise boarding nets. Stand by to repel suitors," Daria muttered, drawing a smirk from Jane.

A movement to her left caught Jane's eye. "Belay that. Miss All-American Teen, two points off the port bow and closing," she reported, carrying on the nautical metaphor.

Daria looked. "Uh, Jodie something?"

Jane nodded. "Jodie Landon. Top seed for valedictorian, class of oh oh."

Daria took a cautious bite of chow mein. "I won't fight her for it."

"See the clipboard? She's in press gang mode. She means to volunteer you for something."

"I'll give long odds against her chances of that."

Jodie walked up and sat down opposite the two girls. "Hi, uh, Daria? Did I pronounce that right?" she asked, with a bright, sincere smile.

"Very well for your first time, Jodie." Daria took another bite of chow mein.

"I just wanted to welcome you to Lawndale High and tell you about some of our great clubs and activities."

Daria continued to eat, paying no apparent attention to Jodie.

Jodie looked a bit uncertain but pressed on with her pitch. "For instance, this Thursday we're having a car wash to raise money to send the band to the state band competition. Can I put you down to help out?"

"If we send them, will they stay there?"

Surprised by the unexpected question, Jodie nevertheless recovered quickly. "Uh, no. They'll be coming back, hopefully with another trophy!"

"Then no," Daria said, and took a sip of milk. Jane suppressed a smirk.

"Oh, come on. It'll be fun!"

"I don't like fun."

Jodie was beginning to get the feeling that she was losing a game she hadn't known she was playing. But she bravely picked up where she'd left off and pressed on. "Oh, sure you do. Everybody likes fun! How about I put you down for glee club?"

Daria looked up suddenly from her lunch with a shocked expression. "What?" she asked, sounding as if she'd had the wind knocked out of her. "Have I given you reason to believe I have severe brain damage?"

"Huh? No."

"Then why would you insult me like that? What have I ever done to you?" Daria asked with a hurt look. Dropping her spork, she buried her head in her hands.

Jodie looked confused and a bit guilty. "But... but I didn't..."

Jane jumped in. "Jeez, Jodie, that's kind of mean." She put a hand on Daria's shoulder. "Hey, it's all right. Just ignore it."

Face still in her hands, Daria shook her head slowly. "Glee club," she moaned. "Why?"

Jodie looked abashed. "Gee, Daria, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm sorry, okay? Forgive me?"

Daria slowly raised her head and looked intently at Jodie, remnants of hurt still in her eyes. "Well... I guess."

"We really have a lot of great clubs here at Lawndale High, though, Daria. We probably have some built around some of your favorite activities. If you join, you can do the things you want to do and meet people who share your interests, and get extracurricular credit to boot." Jodie fitted her sunny, sincere smile back in place.

Over Jodie's shoulder, Daria saw that Charles Ruttheimer had arrived, and was waiting to take his shot at the new chick. Suddenly an idea came to her. She leaned toward Jodie. In a confidential tone, but just loud enough that Chuck would overhear, she asked, "Do you have a young transsexuals club?"

The effect on Charles was remarkable. Looking like he'd just witnessed a warthog giving birth, he turned and headed for the exit at a fast walk. Jodie's sunny smile was fighting a valiant but losing battle against a similar expression.

"Uh, no, we dont, Daria. Um, you'll have to excuse me. I have to go, uh, check on something," she said as she rose and headed off in the other direction.

"Gee," said Daria, looking from one rapidly disappearing figure to the other, "Was it something I said?"

Jane was coughing. Daria turned to see that she had apparently spilled or sprayed some milk, and was vigorously blowing her nose. "A twofer!" she crowed when she could speak again. "Got 'em both with one question. Never seen it done neater!"

Daria smiled and blushed a little. "You were pretty quick on the uptake there yourself. But tell me. When Jodie figures out that we were yanking her chain, do you think she'll be angry?"

Jane considered it. "Naah. Jodie's got a sense of humor. She'll get a chuckle out of it. But I bet it'll be a while before she tries to sign you up for anything again."


	3. Chapter Three

At length Daria stood beside Jane at her locker as she loaded her bookbag for the walk home. Students streamed past them toward the doors and temporary freedom. Jane finished transferring her books and the two headed for Daria's locker.

As Daria reached her locker and began to dial in the combination, she heard an all too familiar voice say, "Oh, I like shopping and trying on clothes, and movies and dancing and eating out and riding around. If it's a cute car, that is, and if it goes with my outfit."

Daria glanced up to see Quinn talking with a tall good-looking boy with styled hair, who seemed fascinated by her. He said, "I have a friend who's on the gymnastics team. Any more at home like you?"

Quinn smiled as if he'd said something witty and replied, "I'm an only child."

Startled, Jane glanced at Daria and saw her pained expression give way to something more akin to anger. She closed her locker and called out, "Hey, Quinn."

Quinn's head jerked in surprise and she glanced at Daria, then as quickly glanced away. 

"Come here a minute, sis," Daria said, placing a slight emphasis on the word 'sis'.

Pretending not to hear, Quinn tossed her head imperiously and started to walk off. Daria frowned. Quinn stopped suddenly, stood there for a second, then turned back and began to walk jerkily toward Daria. Her expression was one of helpless fury. As Jane, the boy, the other members of the fashion club, and several others watched fascinated, Quinn came up to Daria, teeth and fists clenched, and stopped. "You stop that right now and you turn me loose, or I'll make you so-o-o sorry!" she hissed. 

Daria stared calmly into Quinn's angry eyes and said, loud enough for all to hear, "You hurt my feelings, sis. It makes me feel bad when you pretend you're an only child. From now on, I want you to tell everyone the truth; that we're sisters."

"That's never gonna happen, you geekfreak brain!" Quinn whispered back fiercely. "I don't know where Mom and Dad got you, but there's no way in hell we're related! And you better quit trying to embarrass me, 'cause I have lots of friends here, friends who'll do anything I ask them to! Get my drift, brain?"

Quinn made to turn and walk away, but wound up doing a spastic-looking pirouette that finished with her facing Daria again.

Daria got well into Quinn's personal space and locked eyes with her. Now she whispered as well. "It may surprise you to learn that I agree with you that we're not related, you red-headed stepchild. I'm just a little surprised that you're so eager to admit to it. But if that's the way you want to go, I can certainly get behind it. I'll be glad to point out to all and sundry that, while I resemble Amy on the Barksdale side and Imogene on the Morgendorffer side, you don't look like anyone on either side of the family. And if you feel like playing rough, bring it on. I don't need a pack of zombies to mess you up. I can make you do it to yourself. Think about it. If you can."

Daria turned away, and Quinn spun on her heel and stalked off- or started to. Her angry exit was spoiled when she collided head-on with Kevin Thompson and was knocked sprawling, her books flying everywhere.

In the ensuing hubbub, Daria and Jane left the building and headed homeward. As soon as she could do so without being overheard, Jane asked, "What the hell was that all about?"

"Quinn seems to be feeling her oats. She's using her power more than she did in Highland. It's hard to tell, but I think it may be getting stronger, too. She certainly seems to think it is."

"You mean soon she'll have most of the students completely in her power?"

"More like more under her influence. Most of the testosterone-crazed ones, anyway."

"What do you think she might do?"

"Well, the first thing will probably be to tell them to stomp me into a grease spot. No. First she'll get them to try to intimidate me, then she'll threaten to have them stomp me into a grease spot."

Jane's reply was preempted by the arrival of a yellowjacket. It hovered in front of the girls, seeming to examine first Daria and then Jane. As it began to close in on Jane's head, Daria said, "Shoo! Go away!" As if it had heard her, the yellowjacket flew off.

"Hey, pretty neat. Can you do that with flies and mosquitoes too?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Looked like it to me." 

"Coincidence."

"Hmm. Anyway, what was that other thing, with Quinn getting so clumsy and spastic all of a sudden?"

"It's sort of like compensation for Quinn being able to control others. To a certain extent, I can control Quinn. Not her thoughts, just her movements. I've just started to be able to do it recently."

"Cool! Can you do it to anyone?"

"Nope. Just Quinn. So far."

"But soon, maybe others? And who knows what other abilities you might develop! That's fantastic! 

Daria shot Jane a look from beneath a lowered eyebrow, then cast her eyes back down to the sidewalk in front of her. "Oh, yeah. I'm so lucky. Who knows what powers and abilities I might develop by the time I'm dying of cancer from all this fucking uranium in my system," she said bitterly.

Jane looked stricken. "Omigosh. I didn't know. I... I'm so sorry."

"Huh?" Daria looked up. "Oh, it's not quite that bad. Nobody's given me six months to live or anything. They say they flushed most of the uranium out with chelation treatments. They couldn't find anything wrong with us, and boy did they ever look."

""So... uranium isn't all that bad, then?" Jane asked.

"Oh, hell yes, it's bad. It's chemically and radiologically toxic, it's carcinogenic, and it's mutagenic. They've known it's toxic for over two hundred years, that it's carcinogenic since 1896, and that it's mutagenic since 1940. There's been a lot of progress in medical treatment since the Gulf War, which is lucky for the people of Highland, but there's just nothing that can be done about mutations."

"What kinds of mutations can it cause?"

"All kinds. There's no way to know what you might get. It all depends on where the decay particle hits the DNA." She was silent another moment, then, "Funny thing is, I don't register on a geiger counter. Nothing above background radiation. The scientists say that means I'm not contaminated, no matter what I see in the mirror." She sighed. "I sure wish I could believe that."

"Well, it's probably best to take their word for it, at least until you can get a second opinion.

"I suppose. It's just that... sometimes late at night I'll go look in the bathroom mirror with the light off, and I'll see my teeth glowing in the dark." Daria walked a little way, then continued, " And I think: my bones are probably glowing too; I just can't see them. Just like a Halloween decoration."

Jane visualized that, and then wished she hadn't. "Uh, hey, you want a slice of pizza? There's a couple of slices in the fridge that I can warm up."

Daria looked up. "Yeah, okay."

Jane straightened up and closed the refrigerator door. "Sorry, Daria, but it looks like Trent found the pizza. I thought it'd be safe hidden in a broccoli bag in the veggie drawer."

Turning, Jane saw that Daria had apparently not heard her. She was staring intently at a roach on the floor. The roach was scurrying around and around in a circle. Daria's brow furrowed, and the roach stopped and then started off again in a straight line. It stopped again, turned about ninety degrees to the left, and walked in a straight line again. As Jane watched, the roach finished walking a square and stopped. Daria squinted and put a hand to her head, and the roach made a break for freedom and disappeared under a cabinet.

"What in the world are you doing?"

"Giving myself a headache," Daria replied, rubbing her forehead.

"You were making that roach do that?"

"Well, it did what I was thinking."

"So, uh, that yellowjacket a while ago, you did make it go away after all?"

"Maybe. It's starting to look that way. Got any aspirin?"

"Yeah, we have some in the medicine cabinet upstairs. This way."

Daria followed Jane up the stairs and halfway down the hallway to the bathroom. She noticed a couple of canvases propped up in the hall and guessed that they were Jane's work.

Jane handed Daria a couple of aspirin and a paper cup full of water. Daria took them and swallowed the pills. "Thanks," she said, then turned her head and sniffed.

"That dead-mouse-and-last-month's pizza aroma is coming from Trent's room." Jane said.

"Trent?"

"Older brother. He and I are the only Lanes holding the fort right now. Parental units are out of town."

"Cool. I wish mine would do that. But I think I was smelling mineral spirits and something."

"Mineral spirits, turps, and linseed oil? I guess that'd be my room. I do most of my oil painting in there."

"I'd like to see your work."

"Ha. You say that now, but after you see it, you'll be singing a different tune," Jane smirked as she led the way to her room.

"Ha yourself," Daria smirked back. "It'll take more than you've got to make **_me_** sing anything."

"So," Daria asked, pausing as she browsed through a stack of canvases leaning against a wall, most depicting distorted, twisted abstract human figures screaming in rage or pain, "Something eating at your soul?"

"Why yes, now that you mention it," Jane smirked as she pointed to the fierce, twisted creatures gnawing at the main figure in the painting Daria was currently looking at, "there's Lawndale, there's school, and there's my family."

"Uh huh," Daria nodded sagely. "But family pretty much goes without saying, don't you think?"

"True, but I needed three demons for compositional purposes."

"Ah."

"So, having seen it, what do you think?" Jane asked as Daria returned the canvases to their place.

Daria's practiced poker face concealed her surge of panic at the question. _Omigod, why did she have to ask me that? What can I say that won't hurt her feelings, or sound like I'm trying to suck up, or duck the question, or make me sound like a fool?_

"Well, I like them. Um, I know very little about brushwork, but, looking at your canvases, I'd say you do. Very expressive use of color. And the undercurrent of humor beneath the existential angst keeps them from being pretentious. I like that."

Jane blinked and smiled. She was about to reply when a head and shoulder appeared around her doorframe. They belonged to a tall, slender young man with short tousled black hair, a small goatee, and three silver earrings in the ear that Daria could see. And his eyes…

"Hey, Janey, have we got… whoa." One eyebrow hiked up slightly as he caught sight of Daria.

"Trent, this is my friend Daria. Daria, this is my brother Trent."

"Hi, Daria. Nice to meet you," Trent said.

"Uh… hi." It dawned on Daria that she was staring blankly at Jane's brother and that the silence was stretching toward awkward. "Uh, nice to meet you. Too."

Jane glanced sideways at Daria, then turned back to Trent. "I was just forcing Daria to admire my artwork," she said. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, do we have any soda left? The band'll be here pretty soon."

"Just that Tropical Fruit Punch flavor in the fridge."

"Ew. That stuff's nasty."

"Hey, you bought it. Just put it out, they'll drink it."

"Yeah, I guess." Trent waved and disappeared down the hall.

Trent's departure took a couple of seconds to register on Daria. She turned toward Jane. "Your brother has a band? Is he the leader?"

"Well, he plays lead guitar. They don't actually have a leader," Jane replied.

"Are they good?"

Jane chuckled. "They're good and loud. Every dog within two blocks howls in agony. I usually try to get outside the blast radius before they start practicing."

"Oh. Uh, want to go over to my house?"

"Sure." Jane dropped the brush she was using into the can of mineral spirits, and laid a sheet of plastic over her palette. "I want to see your paintings."

Daria threw her book bag over a shoulder. "I'm afraid you're in for a disappointment."

Jane glanced back as she headed out into the upstairs hallway. "What's this, false modesty? I've seen some of your sketches, and you're doing good work in art class."

Daria followed Jane downstairs and out of the house. "No; I'm just not a painter, that's all. I do some pencil sketching, I've done a few small watercolors, and that's it."

Jane gave Daria a puzzled look. "C'mon, you've gotta have an outlet. I know a creative person when I meet one."

Daria smiled minutely. "Well, there are my plans for world domination, and sometimes I creatively gaslight Quinn. But mainly I write."

"What do you write?"

"Essays and short stories, mostly."

"Cool. What else?"

"Well, I have a couple of longer pieces in the works that might reach novel length, I keep a diary, and I suffer an occasional attack of bad poetry."

"Ooh, that I gotta read!"

"Over my dismembered corpse."

Jane grinned. "Now I know I gotta read it."

…

"'Do We Really Need An Ozone Layer?' That sounds interesting. So do we?" Jane asked. She and Daria were sitting on the floor in Daria's bedroom. A small cardboard box was between them and Jane was examining documents from it. Thin sheafs of printed paper were scattered about.

"Only those who foolishly insist on going outside in the daytime," Daria replied. "That's not finished yet. I was writing it for Mr. Van Driesen. He's that wimpy ex-flower child I was telling you about. It's too bad we moved before I could hand it in. I wanted to watch his face as he read it."

"Well, hang onto it. You may get a chance to hand it in to O'Neill, and I'd love to watch his face as he reads it. Now where's that poetry?"

"In my secret hidden boobytrapped wall safe."

"Ha! The safe hasn't been made that can keep…" Jane's braggadocio was interrupted by a call from downstairs.

"Daria! Quinn! Come help me bring in the groceries!"

Daria groaned and got to her feet. "That's my mom. Gotta go tote some bales. Damn that Abraham Lincoln for forgetting to emancipate the children!"

"I'll come and give you a hand. Maybe she won't beat you in front of a stranger."

"A slender straw, but I'll grasp at it." Daria led the way out her door and down the hall.

Jane rose and followed her out. "If she does, at least I get to watch."

Helen was returning from the kitchen as Daria and Jane descended the stairs. "You girls bring in the rest of…" she began, and then noticed Jane.

"Jane, this is my mother, Helen Morgendorffer," Daria said. "Mom, this is my friend, Jane Lane."

Several expressions flickered across Helen's face, surprise among them, before they disappeared behind her professional 'pleasant greetings' face.

"Why hello, Jane, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said. "I was hoping no one would see that room before I could redo it. We're not really restraining Daria in there. We just haven't had time to redecorate it yet."

"Are you kidding, Mrs. M? That's the coolest bedroom I've ever seen!"

Daria smiled. "Thank you, Jane. I've been trying to tell her that, but she never listens to me."

A trace of irritation leaked out from behind Helen's lawyer face. "Daria, is Quinn upstairs?"

"No. The last I saw of her, she was bumping into a football player."

Helen gave Daria a dubious look. "Well, there aren't too many groceries. They're in the back seat."

Without comment, Daria exited through the front door, followed by Jane.

…

"Your mom seems kind of type 'A'," Jane remarked as they approached Helen's SUV. "Businesswoman?"

"Worse," Daria replied as she opened a door and started pulling out plastic grocery bags, "Lawyer."

"Eee. Well, lawyers come in handy sometimes. We Lanes have been known to get crossways of the occasional statute. Inadvertently, of course." Jane accepted the bags Daria handed her. "Does she do pro bono?"

Daria smiled a bit. "Occasionally. Says it looks good on her resumé." She grabbed the rest of the bags and straightened up.

As she led the way around to the side door, Daria considered the surprising fact that she had just introduced Jane as her friend. She had never said that about anyone before. She'd never had a friend before to say it about. _Is it true? Jane introduced me to her brother as her friend. When I introduced Jane to Mom, I just said it without thinking. It felt right. But is it really that easy? Just like that?_ Daria pondered. _I guess I'll just go with it and see how it goes._

…

Helen was putting away the last of the groceries she'd brought in when Daria and Jane came in the side door. They set the bags they were carrying on the counter. "You're home early today, aren't you?" Daria asked.

Helen gave Daria a puzzled look, then checked her watch. "Not really. It's six thirty."

Daria turned to look at the wall clock. "Huh. Where did the time go?"

Helen stopped putting away groceries when she came to a box of frozen lasagna and began opening it. "Jane, would you like to stay for dinner?" Helen asked. "I'm fixing lasagna. It won't take long."

"Thanks, Mrs. Morgendorffer, but I guess I'd better be getting home," said Jane. "The band has a gig tonight, and I need to make sure they get there on time and help them set up." She headed for the door. "Daria, want to come along? I won't make you tote anything heavy, you get in free, and you get free sodas."

Before Daria could reply, she felt Helen give her jacket a surreptitious tug. "I've got something I have to do tonight. Maybe next time. See you in the morning?"

"See you in the morning," replied Jane. She exited through the side door and was gone.

Daria started to put away some cans of three bean salad when Helen threw an arm around her shoulder and gave her a side hug. She grimaced but did not flinch.

"See? I knew you could make friends if you just gave people a chance! It's like I told you, it all boils down to trust."

"That's what you told me, all right."

"I was right, wasn't I?"

Daria considered her words. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't particularly want to contradict her mother. "Trust is part of it. I sort of sensed that Jane might be a kindred spirit, and I guess she sensed the same thing about me. We kind of felt each other out and got to know each other a little and, uh, I guess you could say we decided to trust each other."

"Just like I told you. So what is she like? What are her parents like? Where does she live?"

"She lives about three blocks from here, on Howard drive. It's on my way to school. She likes art, especially oil painting, and she's good at it. She has an older brother who plays guitar."

"And her parents?"

"Two. One male, one female."

"Daria…"

"I haven't met them yet."

Helen sighed. "Well, I'm happy that you've made a friend. Maybe when you get out of that self-esteem class you can make some more. I swear I don't understand how you can have low self-esteem, as bright and capable as you are."

"Exactly. It's impossible."

"Then why are you in that self-esteem class?"

"I told you. Because the school counselor is mean and vindictive."

"Now, Daria. Don't start that again. The whole world isn't conspiring against you."

Daria stopped in mid-motion. She put the groceries she was holding back in the bag and headed for the side patio door. "Fine. Think what you want. Believe anyone but me," she said as she walked out. _She's doing it again, _she thought bitterly_. Taking the word of any authority figure over mine. And it's an argument I can't win. The more I try, the more paranoid I'll sound._

Slowing to a stop in the front yard, Daria took a deep breath and let the anger drain away. She wasn't going to let her mother or Quinn or anyone else spoil this day. She stared upward through gently swaying tree branches at a patch of blue sky with evening-pink clouds. _I have a friend. It'll take something really bad to trump that._

…

When Daria came back in, Helen was removing the pan of lasagna from the microwave. She silently washed her hands and set the table.

Helen called Jake and Quinn to come to dinner. She was seeking a conversational gambit to ease the tension between her and Daria when she noticed her daughters exchanging glares across the table.

"So, how was your day, Quinn?" Helen asked.

"All right."

"Daria said you bumped into a football player."

Shooting Daria another murderous glare, Quinn replied, "Hmph! She's just jealous. She knows she couldn't bump into one if she snuck into their locker room naked!"

"Quinn!"

"Is that what you've got planned for tomorrow?" Daria sneered, "Or have you already tried it?"

"Daria!"

Quinn's eyes blazed. "You'll never have any friends, geek! Nobody likes a brain!" she snarled.

"Quinn! Don't talk like that. As it happens, Daria brought a friend over this afternoon. Her name is Jane."

"Oh, that weird bony art geek? That figures. Next thing, she'll be painting her face white and hanging out with the goth geeks. Or should I say, the rest of the goth geeks?"

"Oh, you're a good one to talk about face paint, Miss Pore Spackle," Daria retorted.

"I do not have pores! My pores are tiny!" Quinn almost shrieked.

Seeing that she had struck a nerve, Daria thrust again. "Oh, good, then you won't mind that I used your pore refiner on my boots."

"_**What!" **_

Helen said, "Quinn, Daria is teasing you. You _are_ teasing, aren't you, Daria?"

"Of course," Daria replied sweetly. "I would never do to my boots what Quinn does to her face."

A tense silence ensued. The hostility between Quinn and Daria was almost palpable. Helen looked from one to the other, at a loss how to continue. She shot Jake a look that said, "Say something!"

Jake gulped and sent her a questioning look back. Her angry return look offered no help, just consequences if he didn't speak up. Reluctantly, he turned to Daria. "Say, how's the old self-esteem coming, kiddo?" he asked.

Daria gave him a sidewise look. "My self-esteem teacher says that being addressed all my life with childish epithets like "kiddo" is probably a key source of my problem," she deadpanned.

Jake looked dismayed. "Really?"

"No."

Jake laughed nervously. "Isn't she great? She's the greatest!"

Daria rolled her eyes and said nothing.

Helen said, "She sure is. But what does your self-esteem teacher say?"

Feeling warm and greasy from all the buttering up, Daria replied, "He says I should think back to circumstances that brought me happiness as a child and replicate them... but I suppose Quinn's here to stay."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Quinn demanded.

Daria shot her a baleful look. "You ought to know. _You're_ the only child."


	4. Chapter Four

ESTRANGESTERS  
Chapter Four  
…

The door of the Lane house opened to reveal a rumpled, semiconscious Jane, clutching a mug of steaming coffee and squinting in the sunlight. "Dobré ráno, môj priateľ," Daria greeted her.

"Nrg?" Jane squinted harder and took a pull on her coffee mug.

Daria smiled. "That's 'good morning, my friend' in Slovakian."

"Oh. Well, buenas dias, mi amiga. That's 'Dobré ráno, môj priateľ' in Spanish." Jane took another gulp of coffee. "You speak Slovakian?"

"Not really. I just picked that up somewhere."

"Ah. Well, come in for a minute while I rake my hair."

…

As they headed toward school, Daria observed, "You didn't get your full eight last night, did you?"

Jane snorted. "Not hardly. Spiral played till after two at McGrundy's. A couple of tables of drunks got to throwing money at them. But you look pretty cheerful this morning."

"I was just thinking about dinner last night. You should have stayed. I made steam come out of Quinn's ears."

"Sorry I missed it. Maybe you can do it again for me sometime."

"I suppose I could. But I might have to pay for my fun today. At school she's got her zombie army."

"You think she'll try something?"

"She wouldn't if she had any sense. Unfortunately…"

"Ah."

…

Daria and Jane visited their lockers and went to their first period English Lit class without seeing Quinn. Mr. O'Neill was still covering Romeo and Juliet. Brittany was dreamily listening to O'Neill, while Kevin was dreamily dozing. Jane passed Daria a doodle of O'Neill dressed as Romeo with an oversized codpiece. Daria added one of their science teacher, Ms. Barch as a less-than-dewy Juliet handing him a fuming test tube, presumably of poison, and passed it back.

On the way to second-period World History, Daria spotted the fashion club headed into the girls' restroom. Quinn shot a glare at Daria, which changed to an evil little smirk as she went in.

As they were heading for third-period science, a boy Daria didn't know bumped into her, knocking her books out of her arms, and kept walking. Scowling, Daria looked up and down the hallway as she picked up her books. Quinn was nowhere to be seen.

After science class, as Jane and Daria approached the cafeteria, a large male student hurried up from behind them, shouldered Daria roughly into Jane, and kept walking, as the first one had. This time, however, Daria was ready. Her foot shot out and kicked him in the back of the knee. His knees folded under him and as he fell backward, she dealt him a sharp axe hand strike to the side of his neck behind the ear. He hit the floor and lay there, apparently unconscious. As Jane looked on wide-eyed, Daria bent over him, surreptitiously stepping on his fingers as she did so.

"Oh, my goodness, are you all right?" she asked innocently, while grinding his fingers beneath her boot.

The boy came to and, with a cry of pain, pulled his fingers out from under Daria's boot. He lurched to his feet and staggered off, bumping into some other students as he went.

Daria looked back down the hallway the way they had come, and saw Quinn about thirty feet back, scowling in frustration. Suddenly Quinn smacked herself in the face several times and then began pounding her head on the nearest locker door, much to the surprise of the other members of the fashion club.

"Damn, Daria, are you all right?" asked Jane.

Daria turned and resumed her course toward the cafeteria. "I'm fine."

"Is **_he_** all right?"

"He'll live. I didn't hit him very hard."

"You knocked him cold, and he's a big guy." Daria turned around at the sound of the voice behind her. It was Jodie Landon, looking at her strangely. "I guess you weren't kidding after all."

"What do you mean?"

"After we talked yesterday, I got to thinking that you might have been pulling my leg about the transsexual thing, but now that I've seen you in action, I believe it. Girls don't hit that hard."

They were in the chow line now. Jane, in front, was choking back a fit of laughter. Daria covered her face with her hands, shaking her head, then lowered them. "Keep your voice down, Jodie. I _was_ kidding about that. I don't know whether you noticed, but Charles uhh…"

"Ruttheimer," Jane supplied.

"Charles Ruttheimer was standing right behind you. I said that for his benefit."

Jodie looked dubious. "But you turned that guy's lights out with one chop!"

"By hitting him in just the right place. I caught him on the side of the neck, behind and below the ear…" Daria pointed at the spot on Jodie's neck. "Ooh, is that a cut?"

"Never mind that," Jodie said. "Go on."

"Anyway," Daria said, pointing to the spot on her own neck, "A sharp blow right there sets up a pressure wave in the blood in the carotid artery, which tricks the body's blood pressure regulator into drastically lowering the subject's blood pressure for a few seconds, causing him to faint. It doesn't require strength, just accuracy."

"Oh," Jodie said, looking less dubious. "Is that karate, or kung fu?"

"Dim Mak."

"Huh? I never heard of that."

Aware that several other people in the line were now listening in, Daria continued, "Those few westerners who have heard of it know it as the art of the delayed death touch."

Jodie gasped. "Death touch! You mean that guy…"

"No. Fortunately for him, not all Dim Mak techniques are lethal. Most are, but not that one. He'll have no lasting effects."

"So you're a Dim Mak practitioner? Why would you take up something like that?" Jodie asked, wide-eyed.

Daria put on her inscrutable face. "I am but a student. I became interested in it because it doesn't require great strength or speed, just accuracy. So, uh, what happened to your neck?"

Jodie gingerly touched the small cut on her neck. "I don't know. I just noticed it this morning. Probably just a fingernail scratch."

"It doesn't look like a scratch."

"I know. It doesn't feel like one either. It feels sore kind of deep down."

"Well, it couldn't be too deep. Your carotid artery is right there."

"Yeah, I guess. Funny thing is, there's another one like it."

"Where?"

Jodie pushed down the waistband of her skirt about an inch on the right side to reveal a slightly larger cut, nearly an inch long. "Right here. It feels sore too."

"Hmm, looks like some bruising around the edges, like it might be a puncture wound. And you don't remember how you got it?"

"No. It feels kind of like a puncture wound, but an old one. But if it had been, I surely would have noticed it before this morning."

"Yeah, I suppose. Are you going to get the nurse to look at them?"

Jodie frowned. "I thought about it, but I remembered that the nurse went to an abuse and self-abuse recognition seminar this summer, and I don't want to risk being misdiagnosed and falling into Manson's clutches."

"I hear that."

Having reached the head of the line, they picked up trays and slid them along the three chrome rails past steam tables laden with the tastiest, most nutritious food the federal government could produce. Jane groaned, echoed by Daria and Jodie.

"When they can't get rid of the mystery meat any other way…" said Jane.

"…it's Chili Mac day," Daria finished.

"Aw, it's not quite that bad," Jodie said.

Daria hooked a stringy, gristly bit of gray flesh from her plate with her spork and held it up for inspection. "Can't even tell if it's mammalian," she observed. "Probably vertebrate, though, judging by the abundant tendons." Jodie looked slightly icked out.

"Fortunately, it's been thoroughly overcooked, so all of the parasites and microbes should be dead," Jane said as she paid for hers.

"Note to self," Jodie muttered as Daria stepped up to pay. "Avoid Lane and Morgendorffer if wish to eat."

Jodie paused as Daria and Jane set their trays on a table no one else seemed to want. Looking Daria in the eye, she said, "So then, you're definitely not a…"

Daria returned her look squarely. "Definitely not. Always been a girl. I came this way. I'm just not yearning for mister Ruttheimer to make me a woman."

Jodie grinned. "Say no more. I'll see you girls later."

Daria sat as Jodie bustled off to combine lunch with some other of her many activities. She poked at her lunch of Chili Mac and generic green beans and looked around the cafeteria. "I don't see young Ruttheimer today," she observed. "He wasn't in his morning classes either."

"Funny, I didn't miss him at all," Jane said. "Hmm, there seems to be some small excitement over at the jock tables. Wonder what they're talking about?"

Daria looked. "I can guess. One of the two doing most of the talking and gesticulating was just in front of us in the slop line, and the other one is the guy that just bumped me in the hall."

Jane observed the gesticulating, which included several chopping motions, for a moment, and noted that the jocks were casting frequent looks their way. "So you think the word is spreading that you're a Dim Mak master?"

"Practically death incarnate, I shouldn't wonder." Daria gave a small lopsided smile. "You know, there's another art that's often more effective than the delayed death touch."

"And what would that be?"

"The art of the lurid rumor."

Jane smiled. "Leaves fewer bodies to dispose of too, I suppose. But you do actually know Dim Mak?"

Daria shrugged. "I read a book on it. This is the first time I've tried out one of the techniques, though."

"Oh, you didn't take clas… oh, I guess not," Jane said, looking down.

Daria smiled. "Right. You can't just pick up the yellow pages and look up the closest Dim Mak school. Even the book is illegal in many countries."

"Where'd you get a book like that, anyway?" Jane asked.

Daria smiled a little smile that made Jane think of the _Mona Lisa_. "A yard sale."

…

The last bell sounded. Daria and Jane made a final trip to their lockers as the hallways rapidly emptied. Daria felt many pairs of eyes on her but no one attempted to jostle her. She looked out the exit doors at Lawndale basking in the afternoon sun, then sighed, turned away, and headed back to O'Neill's classroom for self-esteem class.

Daria took her usual seat beside Jane, as far from O'Neill as they could get without getting too close to the deeply strange students occupying the back row, and got out a notebook and pencil to foster the impression that she might conceivably make a note of something. Jane, she saw, was already beginning to doodle.

Happening to glance out a window, she saw several boys standing out by the street, and noticed that Quinn was with them. They were competing for her attention and Quinn was working her wiles, but they all seemed to be waiting for someone else to emerge from school.

O'Neill droned on. Daria was looking down at her notebook page, considering how to draw a picture of herself on the far side of the moon, when she half-heard O'Neill ask, "So, what are we talking about when we talk about ourselves? Anyone? Yes."

_How do you expect anyone to answer a stupid question like that? _Daria wondered.

A boy in the back row said, "We're... talking about us!"

_Of course, _she thought, _with a stupid answer. I cannot believe I'm in this class, with these… people._

She glanced out the window again, just in time to see Quinn smack her forehead. She then said something to the boys and walked off. They stood and looked at each other for a few seconds, and then most of them started following her. When Quinn saw this, she looked annoyed and said something else, waving her hands in the air. They dispersed, looking disappointed.

It had just occurred to Daria that Quinn and her posse might have been waiting for her, when her train of thought was interrupted by Jane passing her a piece of paper. It was a sketch of a softie cone with O'Neill's face on it. Daria added a sketch of a dog licking the cone and handed it back. Jane smiled at it, then added a stick figure to the cone and drew an alligator biting its legs.

Mr. O'Neill was saying, in that patronizing, Mister-Rogers tone he used, "Now, guys, I've got a little challenge for you. Today we talked about turning your daydreams into reality. Tonight, I want each one of you to go home and do just that. What do you say? Um... you." He pointed to Daria. "What's a daydream that you'd like to see come true?"

Daria chose her words carefully. "Well, I guess I'd like my whole family to do something together."

O'Neill exclaimed, "Excellent!"

"Something that'll _really_ make them suffer," Daria added.

Surprised, O'Neill said, "Uh... it's healthy to air these feelings... I think." He was visibly relieved when the bell rang. "We'll talk more about this tomorrow. Class dismissed."

"Nice one," Jane smirked as they left the room.

"Thanks."

…

As they emerged into the Lawndale summer afternoon, Daria remembered Quinn and the group of boys standing out here a short time ago, watching the doors. "Hey, Jane, are you in a hurry?" she asked.

"No. Why?"

"I'd like to walk around the building once."

Jane gave her a curious look. "I guess we could do that. Why?"

Daria turned and started walking along the face of the building, looking at the bushes and under the roof overhang. "Just a thought I had."

Jane followed without comment until they came to a corner and started around the side. "Penny for your thought?" she asked.

Daria shrugged. "I just wanted to see if…" her attention fastened on a patch of white clover in the lawn. She stared unmoving at it for a while, and then Jane noticed that several bees were hovering in the air a few feet in front of Daria. As she watched, they moved to hover in front of her, then returned to their previous position in front of Daria. By now there were more than twenty of them. They circled around Daria's head a couple of times, then flew back to the clover and dispersed.

"You wanted to see if you could make bees fly around your head?"

"Something like that. Just after we got into touchie-feelie class I noticed Quinn and a herd of her boy-bots standing out front, watching the doors. Then she apparently remembered that I wouldn't be out for another hour, gave up, and left. So I thought, if she gets her timing problems worked out, what am I going to do about it?"

"Aa-a-ah, so you thought maybe you could raise an army to counter hers?"

Daria resumed her walk around the building. "Maybe. I'm sort of taking a census."

…

"So," Jane said, amazedly watching Daria put a bumblebee through its paces like a tiny RC model plane, "There seem to be plenty of bees and wasps around the school, and you're getting better at controlling them."

"You're right," Daria said as the bumblebee landed on her outstretched finger, "It does seem to be getting easier."

"So now the question becomes, can you make them sting on command?"

"Hmm," Daria said, looking dubiously at the bee on her finger. It took off and flew toward Jane. "Good question. Do you think we should find out?"

"Uh, well," Jane took a step back, eying the advancing bumblebee, "maybe not right now…"

The bee flew back toward the flowering shrub it had been working before being hijacked. "Yeah, you're right," Daria mused. "The sun's over the yardarm. We should be heading home before they roll up the sidewalks."

"Sounds good." Jane said, relieved, as they rounded the corner of the school and struck out homeward. " I think. What does 'the sun's over the yardarm' mean, anyway?"

"Dunno exactly. I read it somewhere. I think it means it's time fer a tot o' rum. Got any rum, matey?"

Jane grinned. "Got some Jooky in the fridge. How's that?"

"Close enough."

…

Later, in Jane's room, the two sat on the end of Jane's bed, indulging in a guilty pleasure they'd just discovered they shared.

"Show's on," Daria said.

Jane clicked the music off and un-muted the TV.

An announcer said, "And now, back to _Sick, Sad World." _The SSW logo faded out to show a blond reporter and an old man seated in leather armchairs on a set resembling an elegant study.

The reporter said, in a British-accented voice, "This is just astounding! Here you are, blind, deaf, and barely able to walk, yet you conducted simultaneous affairs with _three_ members of the Royal Family! The question on all of America's mind is: how did you do it?"

The old man leaned toward her. "What?"

"She doesn't get it," Jane said. "It's the Royal Family. You'd _have_ to be blind."

Daria smirked. "Good point."

Now the TV screen showed a small U.F.O. convention, apparently set up in a school gym. The SSW reporter's voice said, "U.F.O. conventions, once sneered at as the domain of so-called "kooks" have become big, big business, drawing hundreds of thousands of people each year, people as sane and rational as you and I, who come simply to satisfy a normal curiosity."

A dorky, pimply-faced, big-nosed young man walked on screen and said,

"Hi! I'm Artie."

The reporter said, "Artie, hello. Tell me, what brought you here, Artie?"

"It was a cone-shaped craft about 15 feet long, with an airspeed of, oh, I'd estimate mach 12. They kidnapped and stripped me, examined me briefly, returned my clothes, and dropped me here," he replied glibly.

"I... see."

"There's a visual I could've done without," Daria remarked.

"They pressed my pants. Did a nice job," Artie concluded.

Daria turned toward Jane. "You know all the answers to the questions on the release test, right?"

"I've got them in my notebook."

"Well, why don't we just take the test tomorrow and get out of the class once and for all?"

Jane pondered this. "How would I spend my afternoons?"

"U.F.O. conventions," Daria replied.

Jane grinned. "Now you're talking." She leaned over to grab her backpack, lost her balance, and slid off onto the floor.


	5. Chapter Five

ESTRANGESTERS  
Chapter Five  
……

Next morning on their way to school, Daria and Jane reviewed the self-esteem test with each other, while Daria occasionally seized temporary control of some hapless insect.

As they headed for O'Neill's classroom, Mack MacKenzie caught up to them. "Hey, Jane, would you happen to know where Jodie is?"

"No. I haven't seen her since algebra yesterday."

"Did she say anything to you about doing something today, or maybe not feeling well?"

"No, nothing like that. You sound worried."

"I am, a little. Last night she said she'd see me after practice this morning. But she didn't show up."

Ahead in the hall, five boys stood in a clump, impeding traffic, looking vaguely belligerent, and glaring at Daria. Mack looked at them and said, "What's going on?"

Seeming surprised by the question, the boys exchanged quizzical looks, as if each thought one of the others had the answer. They shuffled their feet, but stood their ground.

"Well?" Mack said.

"Well, uh… she's a brain," one said sullenly, pointing at Daria. The others nodded, and one muttered, "yeah."

"Yeah, so? So am I. What about it?" Mack replied.

None of them seemed to have an answer to this, and the glances they exchanged were more confused looking.

"I told you before, you've got to do your own homework. Now break it up," Mack said, and they grudgingly moved aside. Mack, Daria, and Jane continued on to Mr. O'Neill's class.

-o0o-

Inside the classroom, Mack looked around, and Daria could tell he was disappointed not to see Jodie. Partly to distract him, she said, "Thanks for helping us with those guys in the hall, Mack."

He turned and looked at her, surprised. "Huh? Oh. De nada. They were in my way, too. What do you suppose they wanted, anyway?"

"I think they wanted to intimidate me. I think my sister put them up to it," Daria replied. In answer to his puzzled look, she added, "She and I aren't getting along very well right now."

Not knowing how to respond to that, Mack said, "Huh. Well, I hope you get it straightened out. And if you see Jodie, tell her I'm looking for her, okay?"

"I will," Daria said as she took her seat. _Damn, I'm getting to be a regular blabbermouth,_ she thought. _It's weird the way he just seems so trustworthy. I can barely remember his name, and yet I go and tell him about me and Quinn. Hmm, speaking of Quinn…_

Daria had no idea whether she could control Quinn's movements without being able to see her, but, after a bit of thought, she decided to try. Concentrating on Quinn's left hand in case she had a pen or pencil in her right, she willed it to slap Quinn on the side of the face.

Mr. O'Neill started the class and took attendance, asking if anyone knew why Jodie and Charles were absent. There was no answer.

"All right, class," O'Neill began, "Today let's look at an interesting supporting character in _Romeo and Juliet_—Mercutio."

Daria directed a mental command toward Quinn to say "Mercutio" loudly.

"Apparently Romeo's good friend and sidekick, but is that all?" O'Neill asked rhetorically. "Might there be some jealousy or envy there too? Is there perhaps a little of Iago in Mercutio?"

Daria sent Quinn a command to slap herself again, then followed it up with a command to say out loud whatever she was thinking. _ I'd give my chocolate milk at lunch to see if I'm having any effect, _she thought.

As O'Neill continued to expound on his off-the-wall theory of Mercutio's motivation, Daria noticed that Kevin, though sitting upright, was sound asleep, a drop of drool emerging from the corner of his slightly open mouth. _He looks so innocent,_ she thought, _so… moronic. I almost wish he was Quinn, so I could make him slap himself awake… _

Kevin's right hand rose a few inches off his desk, then fell back. Daria blinked and stared at him for a second, then a look of concentration came over her face. Kevin's arm twitched again and his hand rose farther before falling back to the desk. Daria smiled a Mona Lisa smile. Kevin's arm flew up once more and the back of his hand smacked into his jaw. Startled, his eyes flew open and he looked around. Daria clamped her poker face on tight and gazed intently at Mr. O'Neill. Jane, Mack, and a few other students turned to look at Kevin, who returned their looks with puzzled suspicion. Jane favored Daria with a speculative glance before returning to her doodles.

Daria heard familiar footsteps out in the hallway. She looked up to see Quinn stomping past in a towering hissy, clutching a small yellow slip of paper. Seeming to sense her sibling's presence, Quinn stopped, turned and glared into the classroom. Daria smiled sweetly and gave her a surreptitious twiddlefinger wave. Quinn bared her teeth, drew a finger across her throat, and stomped off in the direction of Mrs. Manson's office.

_Well, whaddya know. Apparently I **did** have some effect. Maybe now you'll reconsider your goon squad tactics,_ Daria thought. She smiled a tiny smile. _If not, I haven't even begun to think of fun things for you to do._

-o0o-

The bell rang. "Be sure to read Act three, scene one for tomorrow," Mr. O'Neill reminded the students as they headed for the door.

As Daria and Jane made their way to Mr. DeMartino's class, Daria saw that several guys were waiting for her. When they saw her, they spread out across the hallway. Further away, she noticed some other boys who seemed to be hurrying to get in on the action. Daria selected a gawky long-legged one and concentrated on him. As the boys began to close in, one of his feet seemed to get away from him and tripped the guy on his right, and they both fell forward and took out the guy in front of them. Daria hopped nimbly over the tangle of arms and legs and darted into DeMartino's classroom, followed by Jane. The few overeager boys who made to follow were turned back by a withering glare from Mr. DeMartino.

"Damn," Jane muttered as they took their seats, "The kid's playing rough. Good thing that one guy was… hey, wait a minute. Did you make that guy trip?"

"Yeah," Daria replied _sotto voce_, "I'm starting to get the hang of it."

_So, _Daria thought as she settled into her desk_, little Quinnie hasn't gotten the message yet. She apparently thinks her ability to enslave boys trumps my ability to control her and tips the balance of power in her favor, and she apparently intends to crown herself Princess of Lawndale High, deny any connection to me, and force me to back up her story. What the hell does she think is so awful about me anyway? Lots of people have genuinely obnoxious siblings, but they don't try to deny their existence. And evidently she doesn't think my intellect has any practical value in this situation. Funny, she doesn't think my brain is so useless when she needs help with her homework or gets her adorable little butt in a crack._

Daria recalled the many times she'd helped her little sister with problems, gotten her out of scrapes, times for which Quinn had been appreciative—in private. But if there were anyone else present, especially Quinn's so-called friends, Quinn would treat her like she was a scrofulous nosepicking hunchback.

_Lord knows I've tried to get along with the vain little twit. I don't torment her all the time like some big sisters and brothers do, just every once in a while, just enough to fulfill my sisterly duty. And when she comes sneaking around, begging me for help with something, don't I almost always help her? And even when it's something she should really be doing herself, I charge very reasonable rates._

Daria glanced at the door and caught the eye of a boy in the hall, who was staring at her. His truculent expression changed to fear as DeMartino glared at him and made a move to get up, and he quickly ducked out of sight. _Quinn's still at it, _she thought _When is she going to realize she can't win like this? I've given her plenty of clues, but she still doesn't seem to have one. Well, I guess I'll just have to give her a big fat one. _

Concentrating on Quinn, Daria visualized her grasping the sides of her desk and slamming her head into it repeatedly. Faintly from down the hall she heard a teacher's voice shout, "Miss Morgendorffer! Stop that this instant!" Stifling an evil grin, Daria made her sister say, in a deep, hoarse voice, "I am the demon lord Kazaroth! This girl's soul is mine! She sold it to me in exchange for cuteness and popularity, and this day I have come to claim it!" She followed that up with some more headslams and a few random expletives, then suddenly removed all control. Quinn's shriek echoed clearly down the hall: "Damn you, Daria! I'll rip your guts out!"

With an effort, Daria managed to choke back her laughter and regain her deadpan expression. Mr. DeMartino, his delivery interrupted, stared unbelieving out the door. He glanced at Daria, then his attention was drawn back to the door by Quinn's pleading voice and the teacher's insistent one.

DeMartino squinted his eyes shut, shook his head, mumbled something, and resumed. "As I was SAYing, the westward exPANsion was greatly speeded UP when…"

Two sets of rapid footfalls approached in the hallway outside. Quinn's voice could be heard whining and cajoling, and the male voice of her algebra teacher saying, "You can explain it all to Mrs. Manson."

Daria thought briefly, then concentrated. In the 'demon' voice', Quinn snarled, "Hey! Four-eyes! The bitch is mine! Get your mitts off her!"

The teacher's voice replied, "Miss Morgendorffer! This sort of behavior isn't doing you any good!"

Still concentrating, Daria had Quinn say, still in her 'demon' voice, "Damn, four-eyes, how long's it been since you got any? Turn me loose and I'll do you some good!"

DeMartino, his presentation totally derailed, gaped at the scene unfolding out in the hallway. Jane, having some idea of what was actually happening, was struggling to keep from laughing out loud, meanwhile hiding her face behind her tattered history book. Daria wore a flawless expression of shocked innocence. As the teacher passed DeMartino's door with Quinn in tow, Daria made her sister turn her head and look inside, then released her from control. Quinn pointed and shouted, "Look! That's her! This is all Daria's fault! She's the one who made me do it! Get her!"

Everyone turned to Daria, who continued to radiate shocked innocence, and then back to Quinn as she was dragged away. Daria waited till all eyes were elsewhere, then sent Quinn a mischievous grin and another twiddlefinger wave just before she vanished from sight.

In the silence of Mr. DeMartino's history classroom, they all heard the sound of a door opening, followed by Mrs. Manson's voice saying, "Not you again!" Then, hearing a crunching noise from beside her, Daria turned to observe that Jane, her face red with suppressed laughter, had just bitten through her pencil.

-o0o-

As Mr. DeMartino picked up the thread of his narrative of the discovery of gold at Sutter's mill and its consequences, Daria scribbled a note and slipped it onto her friend's desk. Jane read:

Jane

Stay sharp on the way to lunch. If Quinn hasn't yet realized that she can't beat me, she'll come after me with all she's got, and she'll do it either during our lunch period or after school. You might want to maintain a discrete distance from me.

daria

Jane read the note, gave Daria a quizzical sidewise look, and jotted a reply. Waiting until DeMartino asked Kevin a question, she handed it back to Daria.

R U kidding? I haven't had this much fun in years! I wanna be in at the kill! Besides, who wants to live forever?

J

Daria glanced at the reply, sent Jane a sardonic look, and wrote:

OK, you have been warned. On your head be it.

p.s.—I hope you won't be too disappointed if no one is actually killed.

She deftly slipped it back to Jane, who read it, grinned and shrugged.

-o0o-

The bell rang. DeMartino said loudly, "Read the section on the Mexican-American WAR for tomorrow. There WILL be a quiz!"

Daria stared out into the hallway as she put her book and notebook into her bookbag. Noticing this, Jane said, "I wouldn't worry too much. She's probably realized that trying to intimidate you isn't working. Maybe Mrs. Manson has helped her see the error of her ways."

Daria's expresion soured. "Manson couldn't see sh:t with her head up her ass," she muttered, "Which is where she keeps it most of the time, if you ask me."

Jane smirked, "Are you saying our Mrs. Manson isn't the veritable reincarnation of Sigmund Freud? I'm shocked! Shocked!"

"And the last time I saw Quinn, she wasn't exhibiting much capacity for rational thought," Daria went on. She slipped the strap of her bookbag over her shoulder and reluctantly headed for the door. "I've got a bad feeling."

Jane went to the door and peered out, then stepped out into the hall and looked both ways. She turned to Daria and said, "I don't see any notably thuggish gangs of boys. Uh, you want to skip going to our lockers?"

"Hmm… naah, we can't really avoid her and her meat puppets without going completely off campus. Just keep a sharp eye out and stay on your toes."

As they neared Daria's locker, the students' movement patterns resolved into the normal one of students walking past to their various destinations, several guys pacing or slouching back and forth trying to look like they were, and several others not even that bright who were plainly goaltending her locker. Daria touched Jane's forearm, signaling her to stop, and they quietly turned and headed for the lunchroom.

-o0o-

As they approached the lunchroom entrance, Daria again put her hand on Jane's forearm. Another squad of boys was covering this door.

"C'mon, let's get some pizza," she said, "I'll buy." They turned back toward the front entrance, only to find that the first set of goons had closed in behind them. Daria called up a mental image of the bees and wasps she'd seen around the school yesterday, and sent out a call to them. "Get your back against the wall," she said, "and don't forget to duck."

Quinn stepped out from behind the line of goons, an evil smirk on her face. "Well, hi there, second cousin soon to be removed. Guess what time it is?" She struck a dramatic arms-crossed pose. "It's payback time!"

"Payback for what?" Daria asked, as she called again.

"Payback for… Don't try to run your mind games on me, geek!" Quinn turned to her thralls and cried, "Get her!"

The boys advanced on Daria, obedient to Quinn's command, but unsure of the proper way to "get" a girl, and aware that a teacher could show up at any second. Daria quickly focused on Kevin, causing him to shoulder the boy beside him into two other boys. One shouted, "Hey, watch it!" and shoved him back into Kevin, who shouted, "Hey, I'm the QB!" and shoved him back again. Observing that the boys were in a very aggressive mood, probably caused or enhanced by Quinn, Daria backed to the wall near Jane and began inciting a similar shoving match among the boys behind her. Shouts of "stand back! I'm gonna get her!" and "Stuff you, I'm gettin' her!" arose. More shoves and a few punches were exchanged.

Daria caused a boy called Joey to throw a shoulder block into a boy named Corey, sending him crashing into Quinn. Both went down, Quinn cursing loudly. She picked herself up and shouted, "Stop fighting! Get Daria! Beat her up!"

"Students! Students! Stop this at once! Er…students?" came the voice of Mr. O'Neill from somewhere beyond the fray. It had no noticeable effect.

Daria saw something she had been waiting for-- a wasp. But before she could do anything with it, a boy lunged at her. She swung her book bag off her shoulder and slammed it into the side of his head, and he staggered into a knot of tussling boys. Jane swung a boot into another young stalwart's fork, and he folded to the floor. Daria relocated the wasp and guided it straight at Quinn's face, causing her to shriek and duck.

"Stop this at once, you rutting beasts!" Ms. Barch's voice snarled from somewhere behind the crowd, "Or I'll have you all neutered!" Now more wasps and bees were showing up, and Daria began to make use of them. She kept them all in the area and aimed more of them at Quinn. Boys began swatting at them, to which the wasps reacted unfavorably. One boy's swat went astray and smacked Quinn in the forehead.

Daria ducked under a boy's grab and stomped hard on his foot. Jane sidekicked another boy trying to get to Daria past her, and added him to a melee on the other side of the hall. Behind the struggling mass, she glimpsed Mack MacKenzie grabbing boys and heaving them behind him.

At this point Ms. Li showed up. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. A couple of students near enough to hear her slunk quietly away. Her words had no other apparent effect.

Daria switched her concentration to Quinn, who was batting frantically at the bees and wasps. Quinn sidestepped to her left, which brought her near the principal, and her left arm made an especially wide backhand swing and smacked Ms. Li square in the mouth.

o0o-

Ms. Li stood for a second, frozen in surprise. Then, quick as a striking snake, she dropped into a combat stance, ready to demolish her attacker. But Quinn continued fruitlessly trying to fend off the attacking wasps, totally oblivious of Ms. Li or the scuffles and struggles around her. Quickly sizing up the situation, Li stepped back down the corridor a few feet, snatched a fire extinguisher off the wall, and began hosing down everything that moved with chill blasts of carbon dioxide fog.

In a few seconds, the former combatants had been reduced to shivering, sneezing, caught-in-the-act naughty boys. Daria sent what wasps and bees were still airborne on their way back outside, then, driven by some impulse of sisterly duty, helped Quinn to her feet and flicked a few frosty, near-immobile insects off her back and arms. Ms. Li was meanwhile organizing the teachers to round up and detain the malefactors. "Put them in room 126," she ordered.

Daria and Jane stood quietly against a bank of lockers and tried to be invisible, but an imperious gesture and pointing finger from Ms. Li sent them marching off with the other captives to the interrogation room.

-o0o-

Daria closed the door of the commandeered classroom behind her and turned to Jane. "Well, that was entertaining yet instructive," she said, as they started off down the hall.

"But we missed lunch," Jane pouted.

"But we also missed gym class."

"True. Gotta rate that a net plus. All things considered, I'm surprised we got out of there as soon as we did."

"Yeah, same here," Daria replied, frowning. "I'm surprised any time I catch a break. Makes me feel like I'm being set up for something."

Jane smirked. "You're so cynical! I like that about you. Well, nobody had anything to accuse us of that made any sense, not even Quinn. And we had eyewitnesses to the fact that we were just defending ourselves, Li among them. I'm surprised that you avoided saying anything about Quinn's part in the whole thing.''

"It wasn't to protect Quinn, believe me. The less Li knows about Quinn, the less she'll suspect about me. But I was surprised we got out ahead of Kevin and Mack. Isn't Kevin kind of Li's golden boy? And Mack was just trying to help."

"Li's probably hanging onto Mack because he's a reliable witness. Same for Kevin, in a way. He's too stupid to lie convincingly," Jane said.

Daria turned aside and pushed on a girls' rest room door. "Hmm. I guess that makes sense, in a Lawndale High sort of way."

Jane followed Daria in. "Wonder what Quinn's doing, waiting in Manson's office all alone?" she mused.

"Hoping she won't vanish away with no one paying attention to her, I'll bet," Daria began dragging a comb through her luxuriant dark auburn hair. "Also sweating bullets and trying to come up with a convincing story, most likely."

"Think she can?" Jane asked, likewise combing her hair.

"If she did, it wouldn't help her," Daria smiled unpleasantly. "Li just has to stare at her, and she'll spill everything she knows. Quinn's the easiest person to interrogate I've ever seen, as long as the interrogator isn't subject to her popularity power."

"That should be a very interesting interrogation for Ms. Li, then," Jane said, "I wonder how much of what she gets she'll believe."

Daria stopped and stared into the mirror, her comb frozen in mid-stroke. "Hmmm… Jane, you go on to study hall or wherever. I need to talk to Quinn. I'll see you later."

"I'll go with you."

"No, you'd better not. I may need to call in some people who would definitely be displeased to find that you know what you know."

Jane's look of puzzlement changed to one of realization. "You mean…"

Daria touched a finger to her lips, then laid it aside her nose, and quietly left the washroom.

-o0o-

Quinn sat alone in Mrs. Manson's office on one of the colorful plastic student chairs, gingerly feeling the bumps and bruises on her face as she studied her reflection in her little compact mirror. She looked up as the door quietly opened and Daria slipped inside.

"So, come to gloat? Go ahead, knock yourself out," Quinn said in a miserable tone.

Despite what Quinn had done and tried to do, a part of Daria couldn't help feeling sorry for her. "Gloat, gloat, gloat. Did you get those stings treated?"

Surprised, Quinn said, "The nurse pulled stingers out of some of them, and put ointment on them. It helped a little. Where the hell did all those bees come from, anyway?"

"Who can say?"

"So, Li's not going to do anything to you?"

Daria shrugged. "She just told me and Jane to go back to class, but I doubt that's the last we'll hear of it. I saw you get knocked down a couple of times. Are you all right?"

"I look ghastly, and I'll have bruises," Quinn whined. She looked Daria up and down. "Why don't you?"

Daria smiled slightly. "None of your zomboys laid a hand on me. So, have you gotten the message yet?"

"What message?"

"Your abilities are not the equal of mine for purposes of combat, among other things. That's what I've been trying to get through your thick skull since you initiated your "Attack of the Zombies" gambit. If you'd been a little quicker on the uptake you could've saved yourself a truckload of trouble."

"Ah, now comes the gloating," Quinn said bitterly, "I am the mighty Daria Morgendorffer. None can stand against the power of my mighty brain."

"Not gloating, just a simple statement of fact. What you were trying to do was doomed to failure because of my ability to control your movements directly. You should never have tried."

"It's your damn fault. You insisted on telling everybody that you're my sister."

"I am your sister."

"That doesn't give you the right to go around telling everybody!"

The enormity of the illogic and the denial of reality inherent in that declaration left Daria momentarily at a loss for words. "We will talk about this, Quinn," she said very sincerely, "but not now. Li could come for you any time, and I'm pretty sure she means to interrogate you privately, and none too gently. She's the alpha female around here, and what you've been doing is a challenge to her dominance."

Quinn was momentarily confused by that, but shook it off. "Daria, what am I gonna do? I heard she actually has a lie detector!"

"I wouldn't be surprised; not that she'll need it for you. She probably won't even have to ask a question. As soon as she looks at you, everything you don't want her to find out will just come spilling out of your mouth, just like it does with Mom."

"Daria, I can't _help_ it! I can't take the _pressure!" _

"And then she'll expel you, and probably me too, and she'll have to tell Mom and Dad why, and then _they'll_ know…"

"Oh, geez, my life will be ruined! But you said you were gonna help me. Can you?"

"Well, I had a couple of thoughts. I could call those government guys from Highland. They could get Li to lay off, but I'd have to tell them about your power, and they'd want to test you."

"Daria, _no!_ You _can't!_ Don't you see, that's what I don't want!"

"It's not as bad as being expelled."

"Yes it is! It's worse! That would be the **_worst!_**"

"Quinn, they tested me. It's time-consuming, but I kind of enjoyed it. You'll learn the limits of your power and you might learn to use it better."

"And then I'll officially be a freak, like you! No! I **_wont!_** There's gotta be another way!"

Daria fought down a surge of anger. "There might be. But you're going to have to explain to me later why working with the government guys is so awful. And if you call me a freak again, you're on your own, missy."

Fear showed in Quinn's eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? It's these stings, they're driving me crazy! I can't think. All right, I'll explain it later."

"And you'll have to explain to me what was driving you crazy before you got stung. This is by far the stupidest thing you've ever done."

"What_ever_! We're running out of time!"

"And that's the smartest thing you've said all week. All right, there's one way you can get through an interrogation by Li without spilling your guts, and that's if I do the talking for you."

"Huh? How are you going to do that?" Quinn asked, and then answered herself. "Like this. 'Gosh, Ms. Li, I admit I was kind of cheesed off at Daria, and I might have said some uncomplimentary things about her, but I didn't mean for those guys to actually attack her! When I saw what was happening, I tried to stop them!'"

Daria released her control, and Quinn jerked angrily and shuddered. "I _hate_ that! I hate it almost as bad as you telling people you're my sister! Isn't there any other way?"

Daria glared daggers at her sister. "Sure. You can hang yourself with a venetian blind cord before Li comes to get you, you vain, selfish little creep!" She turned and stalked toward the door.

Quinn gasped, horrified. "WAIT! I'm **_sorry!_**"

Daria stopped. After a second, she turned back. "You meant what you said, Quinn."

Quinn wilted under her glare. "Yes, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry it hurts your feelings, but I hate it when anybody says anything about us being sisters. I can't help it. It's just how I feel."

Daria continued to glare at her cringing sibling for several seconds. Then she said, "That will be another subject that we'll cover in our serious talk. But for now, do you want my help or not?"

Quinn's face reflected a pain that had nothing to do with the stings that disfigured it. Her eyes darted back and forth like cute little cornered animals. Finally, she said, "yes."

Daria stepped to Mrs. Manson's desk, picked up the phone handset, and began punching in digits.

Quinn looked alarmed. "Who are you calling?"

"Mom."

"Can't you keep her out of this?"

"Not possible. Li will call her in for a conference to tell her what she's decided to do to you in any case. But if I call her now, it'll be the three of us against Li instead of just you alone. And I need her to get me in." Daria broke off and spoke into the phone. "Hello? I need to speak to Helen Morgendorffer. …Daria Morgendorffer. Tell her it's urgent."

Quinn let her head sink into her hands. "This day is going to be horrible."

Daria glanced over at her sister. "Not as horrible as it would have been. Hello, Mom?"

-o0o-

Daria hung up the phone. "She's on her way. She'll be here in ten to fifteen minutes. Quinn, I think we should level with her. Not when she gets here or when we're talking with Li, but later, at home."

"You mean, tell her about our… powers?"

"Yes."

"Are you _nuts? _I thought you were smart. What good is it to have secret powers if you go and tell everybody?"

"I didn't say tell everybody, just Mom."

"Haven't you heard that old saying about three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead? Geez, Daria, Mom may not be the last person in the world I'd tell, but she's pretty far down on the list. If she thinks my popularity might be artificially enhanced-- not that it is, mind you-- she won't let me date till I'm forty! And no telling what she might do with you."

"Hmm. You may, **_may_** have a point. But you know Mom is gonna grill us when we get home, and she knows us a lot better than Li does. Which means that the only way you can get through Mom's grilling is if I help you again."

"Oh, crap! Daria, I don't know if I can take it!"

Daria bit back a sharp retort and said, "Quinn, I'm not going to slime your mind, or even read it. If you reject my help, be prepared for the consequences. Make up your mind and let me know after we get through with Li."

-o0o-


	6. Chapter Six

**ESTRANGESTERS**  
Chapter Six

Helen Morgendorffer drove her SUV homeward in tight-lipped, white-knuckled silence. She shot frequent angry glances at Quinn cringing in the front passenger seat, as if about to break into an angry tirade, but said nothing. That is, nothing after she'd snapped "Not a word out of either of you until we get home!" as they were getting into the SUV in the school visitors' parking lot.

Daria had instinctively taken the back seat, but was beginning to wish Quinn was back here instead. Helen was holding herself under tight control, but that could be as intimidating as being in an ICBM silo, staring at the missile's warhead from a few feet away. More so, actually, because Daria and Quinn knew that they were Helen's targets, and that, when they reached 1111 Glen Oaks Lane, she was going to detonate.

Quinn was feeling this as intense pressure, and was buckling under it. Despite strict orders to the contrary, she was fighting a losing battle with an urge to blurt out something, anything. Daria did not understand this urge, tending herself to go silent in similar circumstances, but she'd seen it in operation enough times to be able to tell when it was about to kick in. She couldn't predict what her flaky sibling might say, but she knew it was very unlikely to be helpful. So when Helen would turn to glare at Quinn, Quinn's blurt reflex would kick in, Daria would clamp down, and Quinn would remain silent, or at worst go "mrp!" or "eep!". Daria was grateful that the drive home was a short one, and she was pretty sure Quinn was, too.

On the way from the car to the front door, Quinn lightly elbowed Daria, and, looking distinctly unhappy, nodded to her. Daria nodded back. When they got inside, Helen set her briefcase down by the staircase, but made no move to change out of her power suit or even slip off her pumps. "Sit down, both of you," she said, indicating the sofa.

When they were seated, Helen, who had remained standing, turned her full attention on Quinn. "Let me see if I understand this. You've been telling everyone at school that you're an only child, and that Daria is your cousin, or your au pére, or the gardener's foundling child, and when she contradicted you, you got mad and said things that at least twenty boys understood to mean that you wanted them to beat her up for you."

"They misunderstood me."

"Bull. I defended that position with Ms. Li because I had to, to keep you from getting expelled. That doesn't mean I believe it."

"I didn't tell anyone to beat her up. I was just talking to a guy and she comes up with that weird friend of hers and starts saying she's my sister and then she demands that I tell people that too and I say no way geek I have a lot of friends and you better quit saying that and then she makes me look like a _creep_ and a _spazz_ in front of everybody and bump into Kevin and get knocked down and so a few of my friends decide they should teach her a lesson and they kind of bump into her just a little but then she kicks poor Wally and knocks him _out_ and _stomps_ on him while he's _unconscious_, and like she's not a monster? Yeah, right!" Quinn crossed her arms and glared at Daria, looking the very picture of justification.

The look Helen gave Quinn had a good bit of puzzlement mixed in with the anger. "Quinn, that's ridiculous. If you're going to lie to my face, you'd do better to just go to your room now and start serving out your punishment, rather than adding to it."

"I am not lying! She's always trying to embarrass me and ruin my popularity!"

Helen turned to Daria. "Daria, is what she said true?"

"I did not make Quinn bump into Kevin and get knocked down. She did that all by herself. 'Poor Wally' was the second of her swains to come up behind me and throw a block into me. I didn't knock him out; I used a self-defense technique that caused him to faint for a second. And I didn't stomp on him, I just stepped on his finger a little to emphasize my point that he shouldn't be picking on poor defenseless girls."

Helen looked even more puzzled now. "What about her claim that you try to embarrass her and ruin her popularity?"

"If refusing to support her stories about me being her cousin or her au pere or the housekeeper's daughter embarrasses her and ruins her popularity, then I'll have to plead guilty to that one."

"See?" Quinn crowed. "She admits it!"

"Quinn! Where did you get this bizarre idea that Daria can ruin your popularity by just being your sister?"

"Muh-O-om! Just _look_ at her! The way she dresses, the way she walks, those awful glasses, her refusal to wear any makeup at _all_, not to mention the fact that she's a raging brain and _proud _of it! I _can't_ let anyone find out she's my _sister!_"

"Quinn, that's ridiculous! You can't choose your family; everyone knows that. Everyone who ever had a brother 0r sister thought there was something wrong with them. But even if they're monsters …"

"… like Sandi's brothers," Daria interjected.

"…that doesn't affect anyone's popularity but their own."

"Sandi's brothers don't go to Lawndale High, and Sandi's brothers aren't Damn Hack death touch ninjas that have half the school terrorized!"

Helen frowned. "What are you babbling about now?"

Quinn was about to tell her at great length when Daria held up a hand to cut her off. "The technique I used on 'poor Wally' was taken from a martial art called Dim Mak. I am not any kind of death ninja, I never said I was, and I'm not responsible for any idiotic rumor that might be going around to that effect."

"You've got the forbidden book of death and you've got the death touch and anybody you touch dies horribly!" Quinn accused.

"Then you'd better be really careful not to tick me off or I'll touch you," Daria replied, pointing a finger at Quinn.

Quinn recoiled in terror. "Aah! See, Mom? See? She's threatening me with her death touch!"

"Quinn, _get a grip!_ You sound like a raving lunatic!"

"You're always taking her side!" Quinn whined.

"She's not raving, and she didn't organize a gang to beat you up."

"I didn't either. I told you, they misunderstood me!"

Helen turned her head. "Daria?"

"I didn't actually hear her telling anyone to beat me up. Some of them were definitely trying to, though," Daria said.

Helen gave Daria a suspicious look. "What did you hear, or see, that might tend to make a rational person conclude that she may have done so?"

A fearful look crossed Quinn's face. Daria carefully kept her expression blank but thoughtful. "Well, after the second guy bumped into me, I saw her watching from a distance and smirking. And yesterday after school, when I was in self-esteem class, I saw her out front with several boys. They all seemed to be waiting. Then Quinn smacked her forehead, said something, and left. And of course she was there at the big brawl today, but I couldn't make out what she was saying."

"Uh huh. What was she doing?"

"Waving her arms a lot, bumping and getting bumped. She got hit a couple of times, but the hits looked unintentional. She caught Li a good one in the kisser, but that looked unintentional, too."

"I can't believe you punched your principal in the mouth," Helen said, glaring at Quinn.

"It was more of a backhand, actually," Daria said.

Helen turned her glare on Daria. "And how is it that Quinn is covered with stings and bruises, and you don't have a mark on you?"

Daria shrugged. "I'm a better street fighter?"

Helen's eyes glinted like stilettos. "Thin ice, Daria. Very thin ice."

Having accomplished her goal of taking a little heat off Quinn, Daria gave a straight answer. "I put all my effort into ducking and dodging the boys and ignored the insects. Quinn seemed to put most of her effort into swatting at the wasps."

Helen glared at Daria for a couple of seconds more, then turned back to Quinn. "And what were you doing in the middle of all this anyway, if you weren't telling those boys to beat up Daria?"

"Like I told you, I was trying to get them to stop."

Helen's glare intensified, and Daria had to clamp down again to keep Quinn from blurting something. "Somehow I just don't see you getting in the middle of all that to try to stop it. You'd do that from a safe distance, if at all. If you were in the front rank of a mob like that, it's because you were leading it."

Quinn was panicking; well into gut-spilling mode, and Helen was doing all she could to force the spill. Daria could tell Helen expected to crack the case right here. She felt as if her mind were being forced to grow multiple arms to seize and control all of Quinn's panicky impulses. With maximum concentration and a delicate touch, she made Quinn say, _"No,_ Mom! I was trying to make them stop! I _was!"_

Helen continued to glare at Quinn. "Daria?"

"She was there, and she was getting jostled a lot. That's all I can tell you. I couldn't hear what she was saying." The lie left a nasty taste in Daria's mouth.

Helen turned her glare on Daria. "What are you not telling me? What are you covering up?"

Daria carefully added what she hoped would be just the right amount of surprise to her expression. "Nothing, Mom."

The seconds dragged out as Helen continued to stare, a tactic to which Daria was immune. Finally Helen said, "And why were there so many bees and wasps in there?"

Daria shrugged slightly. "Don't know. I've heard some people say they're attracted to the odor of sweat."

"Daria, that's ridiculous. Do you expect me to believe that hundreds of bees, wasps, and yellow jackets, that apparently never interrupted any gym classes, suddenly 'smell sweat' from a scuffle that just started in a hallway, come swarming into the building en masse, and attack some of the participants, but not you?"

Using just the merest hint of a sarcastic tone, Daria replied, "Curses, nailed by your superior logic. All right, I confess. I've been carrying them around in my bra for a week, just waiting to be assaulted so I'd have an excuse to unleash them on some poor unsuspecting yahoos." Seeing the anger flare in Helen's eyes, she carefully fed just a little irritation into her expression. "How should I know why they came in?"

Quinn made a little noise like a suppressed cough. She raised a hand to her mouth and looked down, and made another noise, like 'snrrk'. She sneaked a timid peek at Helen, who had turned her angry glare back on her, then squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hand hard over her mouth. But it was no use. A series of strangled snorts and honks broke into a full-fledged giggle fit.

Recognizing this as tension-release laughter, Helen turned her angry, frustrated glare back on Daria. She couldn't interrogate a suspect with an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Daria, reaching the same conclusion, added by way of consolation, "All I know is that when the fight started there were none, then there was one, then two, and then quite a few at the end. I think they only stung people who were swatting at them, but I can't say that for sure."

Quinn was giggling uncontrollably now, and Helen knew that her best move was to call a halt. The look she gave Daria and Quinn had 'long wooden paddle' written all over it. "Go upstairs, both of you. I'll call you when I can stand you again."

-o0o-

Helen watched as Quinn and Daria disappeared up the stairs, then squeezed her eyes shut and massaged her temples. Dammit she thought, _what the hell is going on between those two? How has it built up to this intensity without me noticing it? And what else are they covering up?_

Turning and heading to the refrigerator, Helen replayed the last three hours in her mind. _There had been a fight at school, that much was undisputed._ She started to grab a passionfruit wine cooler, but changed her mind, taking out a can of cola instead and setting it on the counter.

_A fight. With Daria and Jane on one side and Quinn and twenty-odd boys on the other. And a few teachers, a student or two, and the principal trying to stop it._ Helen took a tall glass from the shelf and put a few ice cubes in it. _Result? Apparently Daria and Jane were winning when Li arrived and broke it up. Several of the boys had looked the worse for wear, and Quinn looked like she'd tried to muscle in on a bear raiding a beehive. Daria didn't have a mark on her, and Jane had also looked untouched. I'd give up a long weekend off for a videotape of that fight._

Helen poured an eyeballed shot of rum into the glass and filled it up with cola. She tasted it, smiled, and sat down at the table. _What_ _was the fight about? Quinn had claimed to be an only child and Daria had disputed it, that much was clear. Then boys had started bumping Daria and laying in wait for her between classes. Finally, enough of them had gotten organized enough to surround her on her way to lunch, and the fight had happened. According to muddled and contradictory testimony from the boys, Quinn had put them up to it. Quinn claimed they'd misunderstood her, and Daria claimed ignorance._

Frowning, Helen took a generous sip of her rum and cola._ Quinn misunderstood by boys? I doubt it. When it comes to boys, Quinn's the Great Communicator. Daria ignorant of whether her sister is telling boys to beat her up? I don't think so. Daria is the arch-nemesis of ignorance._

_But this was not typical boy behavior. Teenage boys did not form up into large packs just to beat up on a single girl, unless that girl had put itching powder in all their jockstraps. Even if they did form into a gang, it probably wouldn't be for beating-up purposes. But this time that's exactly what they'd done. _Helen meditatively tapped a finger on the glass._ And done very poorly, _she thought,_ as if their hearts weren't in it. _

Helen took another sip of her drink and lightly scratched the tip of her nose with a fingernail. The more she thought about the boys' behavior, the less sense it made._ Granted, Quinn was popular and Daria… wasn't, but they'd been in Lawndale less than two weeks. Quinn hadn't had time to learn twenty boys' names yet, much less wrap them all around her fingers. And Daria would typically be almost totally unnoticed by boys at this point, not on their enemies list. Why were these boys acting this way? How did Quinn manage to collect more than twenty of them and get them all working in co-ordination to beat up Daria, if indeed she did? That's certainly the way it looked. And how did Quinn end up the beaten one, instead of Daria? By all accounts, the two hadn't directly confronted each other. And what about… damn, I need to be writing this down._

-o0o-

As Daria and Quinn reached the top of the stairs, they heard the sound of Helen's heels on the kitchen floor. "Daria, why…" Quinn began, before bursting into giggles again. Under other circumstances, Daria might be irritated that Quinn was laughing at the thought of her with a bra full of venomous insects, but since it had brought a halt to Helen's grilling, she was fine with it.

Quinn made another unsuccessful attempt to say something, then gave up and flopped face down on her bed, still giggling. Daria went into her room and shut the door. She took off her jacket and boots, then flopped on her own smaller bed, face up. Helen was down there thinking, she knew, going over their statements like a terrier worrying a rat, trying to poke holes in them.

After a few minutes, Daria concluded that there was nothing she could do but wait for her mother's next move. Sitting up, she cast about for something to occupy her mind.

She didn't feel like reading, writing, doing homework, or watching TV. _What I'd like to do, _she thought,_ is get hold of a few of those boys and practice my puppetry on them. Make them beat on each other some more, or better, make them dance._ She smirked at the idea.

_Hmm… maybe there's a bug or two in here that I can practice with. Don't see any… I'll try calling one. _She closed her eyes and visualized some of the spots in her room where a bug might be hiding._ Under the bed, the chest, the desk; in the closet, behind things, under the throw rug, behind the padding…I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE, BUG. SHOW YOURSELF, I COMMAND YOU. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP._

A scratching, skittering noise caused her to open her eyes and look toward the ragged end of the wall padding by the door. When the noise stopped, she concentrated on the command again. _COME OUT, COME OUT._

A pair of long thin questing antennae emerged from behind the edge of the padding, followed by a shiny dark brown head. _COME OUT_. Reluctantly a large cockroach crawled out onto a bare patch of wall near the door, and stopped, antennae waving nervously.

Daria pictured the roach walking down the wall and onto the floor. It tuned jerkily, antennae waving faster, and moved down the wall a couple of inches before stopping. Daria thought she could feel its apprehension and reluctance. She urged it on.

As the roach reached the base of the wall and crept out across the carpet, Daria wondered what to do with it. Her eye lit on a book lying on the floor between her bed and her desk, and the thought of using it as a stage came to mind. She turned back to the roach, and saw that it had turned and run back to the wall.

_HALT!_she commanded it. It froze. _ABOUT… FACE! FORWARD… MARCH! _ The roach complied, but it was not a happy roach. Daria wondered if she was actually picking up emotions from it. It definitely felt as if she were.

The roach stopped, and she mentally urged it onward. It started forward again, but swerved off to the left. It reluctantly resumed course toward the book, but stopped again after a few more inches. It certainly was not acting happy. Perhaps that was what she was picking up.

Daria finally got the roach up onto the book, resisting all the way. She was becoming convinced that she was indeed sensing anger from him. She was also pretty sure that he was an adult male cockroach, and was not accustomed to being messed with on his own territory.

There was a soft knock on the door. Daria said, "Yes?" As her attention strayed from the roach, it broke free of her control, opened its wing cases, spread its wings, and took off, flying straight at her. Startled, Daria sent it a "STOP!" command as forcefully as she could. It fell out of the air, disappearing from her sight below the edge of her bed just as her bedroom door opened.

-o0o-

Helen looked at the notes on her legal pad uncertainly. _Maybe I'm being too negative, _she thought_, too paranoid. Quinn looked me in the eye and told me she didn't tell those boys to beat up on Daria. She's never lied to my face before. Well, not successfully, _she amended. _She's tried a few times, but she's always caved and spilled the beans. She was every bit as freaked this time. If there'd been any more beans to spill, she'd have spilled them._

_And Daria… Daria almost never lies. It's against her philosophy. She doesn't always tell the whole truth, and sometimes she just clams up, but she rarely lies. And in a situation like this, surely she wouldn't lie, mislead, or withhold information to help Quinn, if Quinn had tried to have her beaten up._

But something was nagging at her, something about how the girls behaved, something that reminded her of... what? Who?

And then it came to her. They were acting like the dons of two rival crime families brought before a Congressional committee. Putting up a united front under questioning, speaking no evil of their fellow mobsters, honoring the omerta. But once mobsters were no longer under scrutiny, they went back to business as usual; drug smuggling, rumrunning, loan sharking, prostitution, and trying to rub each other out. Helen thought of Quinn and Daria and wondered what their racket might be. What did they consider so vital to keep secret from her that they'd band together and lie for each other at a time when their mutual hostility had risen to the level of open warfare? And when was the next St. Valentine's Day Massacre scheduled, and who was going to try to rub out whom?

Helen scowled and took another drink of her rum and cola. No matter which way she looked at it, there were gaping holes and pieces that didn't fit. Either she still didn't have the right angle or she was missing a vital puzzle piece, or both.

-o0o-

Quinn stood in the doorway looking apprehensive. "Why do you think she sent us up here?" she asked.

"She's cooling off," replied Daria, who had read Helen's child rearing books more thoroughly than Helen had. "You know she was steamed over having to leave work, not to mention all that crap she walked into at school. I hope she's having a wine cooler. She could use one."

"Yeah," said Quinn, keeping her voice low. "Hey, uh, thanks. You did pretty good down there. That's, uh, pretty close to what I would've said if we hadn't, um…"

"Been waging psionic war at school?"

Quinn snickered, then said, "Speak for yourself. I'm not cyclonic. But I was surprised you didn't make me sound like it was all my fault."

Daria shook her head. "I'm going for the least fault for both of us. I presented your side as well as I could, leaving out the powers, of course. But I have to tell you that Mom might not have been as favorably impressed as you think. And she's not through with us, by any means."

Quinn looked apprehensive. "Yeah, probably. But you're really being decent about this," she said, a note of wonder in her tone.

Daria knew that Quinn was wondering why. "The quicker the interrogation and punishment phase is over, the quicker her work will push the whole thing out of Mom's head, and the better off we'll both be," she said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Oh. By the way, what you said about carrying those bees around in your bra for a week.. you were kidding, right?"

Daria rolled her eyes. "Oh, no. In fact, it's one of the best ideas I've ever had. I've gone up two cup sizes, and I have the cutest bee-stung nipples now. What's a little agony compared to that, right?"

Quinn giggled as she turned to leave. "Oh, by the way, there's a dead roach on the floor," she said, and pointed.

Daria stood and moved around to where she could see the floor at the foot of the bed. There was indeed a large dead roach there. _Huh. I didn't see it there earlier. Could it be… nah, there's no reason for the one I was just messing with to be dead. Although that's about where he would have fallen… Hmm. Something peculiar looking about this one…_ She bent down for a closer look, and one of its back legs twitched. _Still kicking. Maybe this _is_ the one I was messing with, but what killed it?_ Using a cash register receipt, she scooped it up and examined it more closely. _Something wrong with its head. Can't focus that close._ Turning and kneeling beside her microscope, she slid the roach onto the specimen table and rotated the lowest power eyepiece into position. She blew some dust off the eyepiece and put her eye to it. Bringing the roach's head into focus, she studied it. _mouth parts… right eye… right antenna… jagged hole…_ Daria blinked and looked again. There was a gaping, jagged-edged hole in the center of its head, as if its brain had exploded.

-o0o-

Daria was seated at her desk, making notes and peering occasionally through her microscope when Helen knocked softly and entered. Daria turned to face her.

"I want to know what really happened at school today," Helen said.

"Between the conference with Ms. Li and interrogating us, you've pretty much got it all," Daria replied.

"Don't give me that. Twenty boys don't gang up to beat up on one girl in a crowded hallway in the middle of the school day. Boys just don't behave like that. And if they did, they wouldn't lose, outside of a bad kung fu movie."

"They'd lose to me."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm bad to the bone."

Helen glared at her daughter. "Don't try to get me sidetracked. Why did Quinn incite those boys to beat you up?"

"She says she didn't"

"I don't believe that. Assuming she did it, **_why_** would she do it?"

"Objection. Requires speculation on the part of the witness."

"So speculate."

Daria stared at her mother for a couple of seconds, then said, "Because I'm her sister and I'm not fashionable and popular. Because I refuse to be fashionable and popular or to deny being her sister. Because I exist."

"Those aren't adequate reasons for Quinn to try to get you beaten up."

"I agree."

"I mean there must be some other reason. What is it?"

"I don't know."

"Daria, I want the truth!"

"You can't handle the truth." _Oh, crap. Why the hell did I say that?_

Helen's glare said 'Six months in solitary. In the dark.' "We'll see about that. Tell me the truth. Now."

Daria thought fast. "All right. You know those bad Japanese movies that start out with Godzilla minding his own business, and then another radiation-mutated monster shows up and says "This town ain't big enough for the both of us," and they get into a big fight and destroy Tokyo? Well, that's how it is with me and Quinn. We're both mutant monsters and Quinn thinks this town ain't big enough for the both of us."

Helen's glare intensified, if such a thing were possible. "You're grounded for a week for lying. And another week for insulting my intelligence." She turned and left, not quite slamming the door on her way out.

"See?" Daria muttered inaudibly. "I told you you couldn't handle the truth." She turned back to her notebook and picked up her pen. "Damn, and I was doing so well, right up until I stuck my foot in my mouth."

--o0o--

Helen closed the door to Quinn's room, frowning, and saw Daria coming down the hall toward her. Not looking forward to another verbal encounter with her eldest daughter, Helen was nevertheless a bit surprised when Daria continued on past her and into her room at the end of the hallway.

Mentally shrugging, Helen continued down the hall and on downstairs. It was nearly dinnertime. Jake would be home soon, and she had to feed her two daughters, even if sometimes she'd like to feed them _to _something. And she hadn't gotten to any of the legal work that she'd wanted to do. She wanted to show the partners that, even with a family emergency, Helen Morgendorffer got the work done. Well, she'd just open a couple of cans of green beans and a can of tomatoes and nuke a block of lasagna and...

A strange odor stopped her at the entrance to the kitchen. Faint but unpleasant, it smelled like burning hair or... toenails or something. Continuing on into the kitchen, Helen was surprised to see two large roaches lying dead on the floor.

--o0o--

Daria left her door partially open and sat down at her desk. She was staring at her notebook, pencil in hand, when the expected faint creak of the door hinge announced Quinn's arrival.

"Mom grounded me for three weeks, for lying to her, for disruptive behavior in school, and for lying to the kids at school about you! What happened?" Quinn asked without preamble.

"I told you she wasn't through with us, and that she wasn't as sold on our story as you seemed to think," Daria replied.

"Three weeks! My social life is ruined!"

"I got grounded for two, just for helping you."

"Hmph. Some help you were. I thought you were gonna get me off!"

"I never said anything like that. But if I hadn't helped you, you'd probably be in the Psych wing at Cedars of Lawndale right now, getting your head candled. Or at Mrs. Knudsen's Correctional School for Wayward Girls. Or packing up for three months in the wilderness with the next Outward Bound expedition."

"Psht. I doubt it."

"On what grounds? You know Mom and problems. Plenty of money but no time. And she sure as hell wouldn't try to bribe you after this one. She'd deal with you in whatever way would cause her the least embarrassment at work."

Quinn considered this and her expression slowly changed to one of dismay. After a few seconds she asked, "Don't you mean, 'she'd deal with _us_?"

"No, I don't. I was the victim, remember? You lied about me; I told the truth. You scraped together a couple dozen muscleheads to beat me to a pulp; I just defended myself. All the eyewitness testimony backs me up. The only reason Mom grounded me is because I covered for you instead of telling her what's actually going on. Come to think of it, why the hell did I do a stupid thing like that? Oh, yeah. I had this harebrained idea that if I helped you when you didn't expect me to, when you had no right to ask for help, maybe you'd say to yourself, "Gee, I guess Daria's not so bad after all. She's not popular or fashionable, but it takes all kinds, they say. Come to think of it, I'm sort of glad she's my sister."

"Eewww! You're kidding, right?"

"No, I am not."

"Daria, if it weren't for you, my popularity wouldn't be hanging by a thread right now. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have had to think up those stories. If it weren't for you calling me a liar to my face in front of my friends, I wouldn't have had to ask those boys to help me do something about you. You're the cause of all my problems. Just because you turned around and helped a little with one of them isn't going to make me glad you're my sister!"

Daria's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. "I see we need to have that talk now. "You're the cause of all my problems"? Well, excuse me for existing. First off, I've got at least as much right to exist as you do. Second, my existence doesn't affect your popularity, no matter what I am or what I do. Your popularity depends on who and what _you_ are and what _you _do. Third, you're not in school to be popular, you're there to learn. You're going to need that knowledge someday, and it'll be too late to go back and get it. Fourth, if you don't want to be called a liar, stop lying. I'm not going to let you get away with lying about me, and there's no reason I should.

I thought maybe if I turned the other cheek one more time and helped you out when no one else could or would, you'd realize you've been wrong about me; that I make a better big sister than an enemy. Apparently I was wrong."

"Turn the other cheek? Help me out? Is that what you call it? I'm all covered with bruises and beestings, I'm grounded for three weeks, and everyone at school thinks I'm insane!"

"Quinn, I went easy on you."

"Easy! You call that easy?"

"Well, yeah, compared to, say…"Daria began. Quinn suddenly yanked her top up to her neck, her bra with it, and shouted, "Hey, guys! If you can catch me, you can have me!"

Daria smiled a tiny smile as Quinn stood there frozen, unable to cover herself. "I bet that would have taken their attention off me real fast, and with a lot less risk and effort than what I actually did. Think about it. Or how about…"

"Clothes are evil!" Quinn proclaimed, throwing off her top and bra and unzipping her jeans, "Clothes are the male oppressors' instruments of our domination! Clothes are the chains of the fashion fascists!"

Daria released her control and Quinn, blushing furiously, turned her back, zipped her jeans up and yanked her bra and top back on. "That would've worked great in Manson's office… or Li's. But I didn't make you do either of those things."

"How dare you!" Quinn raged. "I never did anything to you to justify you doing anything like that to me!"

"You sent twenty guys to beat me up! I could've been seriously injured, or killed!"

"I just sent them to scare you. I would have stopped them!"

"You didn't stop them. I would have been beaten black and blue if I hadn't fought them off myself. You couldn't stop them from beating on each other, or even on you. You don't have that kind of control."

"Well, it's your fault! I'm popular here! Everybody likes me, and you're going around trying to ruin my life!"

"That's ridiculous! "I'm not trying to ruin your life."

"You're telling everybody that you're my sister!"

"I am your sister!"

"That doesn't give you the right to tell people that!"

"Yes, Quinn, it does."

"Well, if you do it again, I'll make you wish you hadn't! And that goes double for using your freak mind power on me! Triple!"

Daria's expression hardened. "Fine. You called the tune, let's see if you can dance to the music. And if you can pay the piper when it's over." She turned her attention back to her notebook.

Quinn stood there trying to think of a killer rejoinder. She gave up, snapped "Fine!", spun on her heel, and stalked out.


	7. Chapter Seven

ESTRANGESTERS   
Chapter Seven

Breakfast next morning was a tense affair. Helen quickly ate a scrambled egg, gulped her coffee and grabbed a granola bar. "You two come straight home after school. Remember, you're grounded," she said as she hurried out.

As soon as Helen was gone, Quinn turned with a malicious glint in her eye and said, "Ghod, Daria, are you gonna wear **_that_** outfit to school?" Daria said nothing, but Quinn was suddenly unable to hit her mouth with her spoon.

Daria smirked evilly. "Gee, Quinn, are you gonna wear **_that _**cereal to school?" she asked. Quinn glared at Daria as she wiped her face, then snarled in rage as she realized she was wiping it on her shirttail. Jake raised his paper higher. Quinn stomped off upstairs to change.

Daria finished her breakfast, put her plate in the dishwasher, and picked up her backpack. "Have a good day at work, Dad," she said as she opened the side door.

Jake lowered his paper and smiled. "You too, kiddo," he replied. "Don't fight with your sister at school."

Daria looked up in the direction of Quinn's bedroom, whence came muffled thumps and cursings. "I'll try not to."

"Daria..."

"I promise I won't start anything," she said as she left.

--o0o--

On the way to Jane's, Daria wondered whether Quinn's instinct for self-preservation would manage to overcome her irrational hostility. Nothing short of actual murder could secure for Quinn the coveted status of only child, and Daria was reasonably certain that Quinn didn't contemplate going to that extreme, but Quinn yearned for her fantasy world and resented Daria as a reminder of a hated and persistent reality. Daria shook her head. _Unless I agree to support Quinn's fantasy, which I won't, or unless Quinn somehow comes to terms with reality, I don't see much hope of a lessening of hostility between us._ Her expresion hardened. _And if Quinn insists on acting on that hostility, she'll get it back in spades. I'm through turning the other cheek._

There was a splotch of something on the sidewalk ahead, and Daria moved to walk around it. As she neared it, she saw that there were wasps and hornets clustered around it, slurping it up. Daria stepped off the sidewalk to give it a wide berth, but for some reason a hornet flew up at her. Without thinking she directed a blast of mental energy at it. There was a sharp pop, and the hornet fell to the ground, its head blown away. Daria wiped a bit of something off her cheek onto a handy tree trunk, and continued on.

--o0o--

Arriving at Casa Lane, Daria rang the doorbell and waited, then rang the bell again. She heard the chimes sound inside. After a further wait, she knocked on the door. From within, she heard a muffled, cranky voice saying something that might have been, "All right, I'm coming!" Several seconds later, the door was unlatched and unlocked, and then creaked open to reveal a stooped, scowling Jane.

"You here already?" Jane croaked. "What time is it?"

"It's about seven forty, same time I usually get here. Are you all right? You don't look so good."

"Nothing that a good night's sleep won't fix. Too bad I didn't get one."

"What happened?"

"Damfino. I went to bed around eleven, and woke up when you knocked on the door. But I feel like I spent the night in a mosh pit. I ache all over, and I'm tireder than when I went to bed."

"That's odd. I'm a little achey from the huggermugger yesterday, but I didn't think you got caught up in that."

Jane brought a hand up to rub her neck, then said, "Ow! What the…"

Daria looked at the spot that Jane's fingers were tenderly probing. "It looks like a small mostly healed cut-- Son of a…"

"What?"

"Uh, nothing really, it's just that…"

"What?" Jane asked again, irritably.

"It looks just like the one on the side of Jodie's neck. You don't have one on your right side, just below waist level, do you?"

Jane put a hand to the indicated spot and winced. Hesitantly, she lifted the hem of her t-shirt and looked. There it was, just like the one Jodie'd had. She tried to force her tired mind to work. "Whaddya think it means?"

"I guess it means that whatever happened to you to cause those marks also happened to Jodie," Daria replied.

--o0o--

As they approached the school, Daria saw a small group of boys standing and talking near the front doors. Some were looking their way. An argument broke out among them. Daria caught the phrases "No, you go first," and "chicken!"

As she and Jane were about to pass by the group and enter the building, one of them stepped forward into their path. Daria recalled hearing him referred to as "Mott" yesterday. He puffed himself up, put on a truculent expression, and said, "We're not scared of you, Dorothy. We don't believe in your Dim Sum Death Touch bullshit, and we're gonna… akhh…"

Daria held her right hand up midway between her and Mott, and made a slight squeezing gesture. "I find your lack of faith… disturbing," she said, quoting Darth Vader.

Mott wheezed and clutched his throat. His eyes bulged, his face reddened, and he slowly sank to his knees. "k…k...gk …"

"Daria, _NO!_" Quinn cried. "Turn him _loose!_"

Daria turned to look at Quinn, smiling slightly. "As you wish," she replied indifferently, reversing her squeezing gesture. Mott fell, gasping. "Still managed to find a few suckers, I see. Where were you hiding, in the bushes?" She turned and walked into the school, Jane with her. The crowd watched her go with big round eyes. Mott was on hands and knees, breathing in great gulps of air.

Mack MacKenzie caught up to Daria and Jane in the hall. "Jamie came and told me Mott might try to do something stupid, and I came to try to prevent it."

"If I'd known you were nearby, I would've let you handle it. I wish you'd spoken up."

"Didn't quite make it in time. Sorry."

"I'm not. That little incident was just about perfect for my purposes. Before the day is out, it'll be all over the school, and the stupid ones will assume that I can do anything a jedi can do, and steer clear of me. Anyone with half a brain won't believe the story, because it sounds made up."

"What in the world did you do, anyway?"

"Just an old jedi mind trick. He just closed off his windpipe for a few seconds."

"Closed off his... but why... how could you make him do that?"

"The same way Quinn was getting him to do anything she told him to, basically. Quinn isn't really the cutest girl in the world, you know. She has an ability. I have... similar abilities."

Mack looked like he didn't know what to say to that. Finally he asked, "How did you... acquire these abilities?"

"I don't really know. The point is that Quinn is manipulating people to make herself more attractive and popular, and now to try to intimidate me. I could stop it by making her act totally insane, but that might get her thrown out of school. It would certainly make her hate me for life. If you could say something to the guys that would make them think twice before they did something she asked them to, like trying to beat on me, it might keep a lot of them out of trouble. I'll be working on Quinn."

Mack stared at her for a couple of seconds while he digested her words. "Okay, I'll, uh, see what I can do. Listen, have either of you two seen Jodie?"

Daria shook her head. Jane said, "No, not since day before yesterday."

"Do you have any idea where she might have gone? Anything at all?"

Mack's anxiety was obvious. Daria and Jane glanced at each other, then back to him. Jane said, "Well, there is this one thing. It's probably not relevant, probably means nothing at all..."

"Anything. Please tell me."

"Well, Jodie was tired that day, and not feeling well. And there was this odd mark on the side of her neck. Maybe she showed it to you."

"What sort of mark?"

"Just like this one." Jane pointed to the cut on her neck. "She said it felt sore down deep, like a partly healed cut. Which is exactly what this one feels like."

"No, she didn't show it to me."

"She had another mark, very similar to that one but a little bigger," Jane continued. "On her right side, just above the hip bone."

"Where did she get these marks?" Mack asked her. "When?"

"She said she just had them when she woke up that morning. She was sure she didn't have them the day before."

"Huh? How's that possible, if they're partially healed cuts?"

"She didn't know, no more than I do. Mine feel like old stab wounds, and I'm positive I didn't have them last night when I went to bed," Jane replied. "I know that doesn't help, but it's all I can tell you."

"Well thanks, Jane. Maybe it'll be useful later. I'm going to go ask some other people."

Mack walked off down the hall. Daria looked around and saw Quinn standing with the fashion club and glaring at her. She concentrated, and Quinn stuck a finger in her nose. Realizing what she'd done, she jerked it out, but not before the other three girls had seen it. Daria saw the look of intense hate on Quinn's face and concentrated again. Quinn's hands went to the front of her jeans, as though to unzip them. Appalled, Quinn jerked them away, only to have them, seemingly of their own volition, grab the hem of her baby tee, as if to yank it up, but stop short of doing so. Before anything else happened, Quinn left her surprised companions and hurried over to Daria. "All right, all right, I get the message!" she seethed.

Daria regarded her levelly. "Good. Repeat it to me."

Quinn put on an exaggerated look of exasperation. "If I send any more guys after you, you'll embarrass me."

"Nope, not quite. I guess I'll have to continue sending it."

A look of fear flashed across Quinn's face. "No! Just tell me!"

"You will cease to use your power altogether. If I see guys fetching you sodas or fighting to carry your books, or clustering around you like bees around spilled honey, or showing any other evidence of your mind control, I'll start using mine. On you. With the result that you end up an object of ridicule, or of fear, or even expelled.

"Daria! You can't do that! Guys do things like that without me having to do anything! I can't help it if I'm popular!"

"Bullshit. I knew you before you drank the water. You are not 'just naturally' the most popular girl on the planet, no matter how much you want to believe you are. From now on, if I see you drawing a crowd of guys, I'll assume you're consolidating your power over them to use them against me later, and I will drop the hammer on you. No more 'nice big sister'. No more 'benefit of the doubt'. You have no idea what I can do, Quinn. You haven't seen a tenth of it. But if you don't leave me and all these other people alone, you will. I'll let you have both barrels."

"Daria, I'm a people person; it's just who I am! I can't stop being me!"

"Again, bullshit. You can stop using that power that no one else has, and that no one knows you have, to force others to like you."

"That's just it; I don't think I can! It's not something I can turn off!"

"Well, you better try real hard, or you'll be the most popular girl in some institution for dangerous lunatics. These people aren't your slaves, Quinn, and they aren't your toys. You got that?" Daria spun on her heel and walked off down the hall to her locker.

Jane was there already and had her locker open. "Ho hum, another dull, boring day at school," she remarked wryly.

"Huh. I wish," Daria replied. "I could use one of those about now."

They walked into Mr. O'Neill's classroom a few seconds after the bell rang. Daria noted Mack's unhappy expression and surmised that he hadn't found anyone who knew anything helpful about Jodie. They were just taking their seats when the intercom clicked and squawked into life.

"Attention, students. The following Lawndale High students have been declared officially missing: Charles Ruttheimer the third, Melissa Cavendish, Orville Needlesmith, and Jodie Landon. Will anyone who has information that might help authorities locate these students please come to the principal's office. Rewards are being offered for information leading to the recovery of Charles Ruttheimer and Jodie Landon. That is all. Resume learning!"

Mack lowered his head into his hands. Jane looked at him, then at the door, then at Daria. Daria said, "Come on. I'll go with you."

-o0o-

On their way home from school, Jane remarked, "Well, now the Lawndale PD and the FBI both think we're loony. Think they'll put us on their watch lists?"

Daria made a little snorting noise. "Makes no difference to me. I'm already being watched by a couple of government agencies. Maybe they'll start tripping over each other." She paused, then continued. "We did the right thing, Jane. Maybe it'll help, maybe not, but you were right to tell them."

After a minute, Jane said, "It's just so creepy. Jodie has a bad night and wakes up with those marks, and the next night she disappears. Now I have a bad night, I wake up tired and sore, and I have the marks." She paused, frowning. "I wish I knew if it was the same for Upchuck or the others before they disappeared."

"Yeah, me too. No one we asked knew. Maybe the FBI guys will ask everyone. They're very thorough that way." Daria looked at Jane's anxious face and added, "Hey, you want to spend the night at my house?"

A little smile broke through Jane's worry. "You think that might help?"

"Couldn't hurt."

"Sure it could. You could disappear along with me."

"Hmm. It's possible, I guess. On the other hand, Quinn could disappear along with you. That way it wouldn't be a total loss."

Jane feigned indignation. "It would from my point of view! I'd wind up in the same place as Quinn!"

Daria shrugged and deadpanned, "Yeah, but it's probably an awful place anyway, so being there with Quinn wouldn't make it that much worse."

Jane gave Daria a sideways look. "I'm pretty sure there's a flaw in that reasoning somewhere."

One corner of Daria's mouth turned up. "Well, Quinn's much more popular than you are. Maybe whoever or whatever it is will take her and leave you."

The two shared a smirk but then fell silent, in unspoken agreement not to pursue that line of thought any further.

-o0o-

Helen pushed open Daria's not-quite-closed door to find Jane seated at Daria's desk writing in a loose leaf notebook and Daria, holding a textbook and pencil, watching over her shoulder. "What are you doing?" Helen asked.

"Math homework," Daria replied. "Mom, is it okay if Jane spends the night? We need to study for a history test tomorrow."

"No, Daria. You can't have friends sleep over when you're grounded."

"But I'm not going anywhere. You never said being grounded meant that I can't have a study partner."

"I never thought it was necessary. It goes without saying."

It pretty well does, but I can't just give up, Daria thought. "But Mom, Jane's folks aren't home. She'd be all alone."

"Not for the first time, I'm sure."

"Mom, I'm afraid for her. Three Lawndale High students have just been declared missing. One of them is Jodie Landon."

"What? Why haven't I heard anything about this?"

"They announced it in school this morning, and the police and the FBI were there investigating the disappearances. I'm sure it's on the news."

Helen's expression of concern hardened into one of determination. "Well, they'll probably show up sooner or later when they come to their senses or run out of money. If not, I'm sure the police will find them. You can have Jane stay over later, but for the next two weeks you're grounded."

Daria stood for a couple of seconds, gaging her mother's mood. Then she turned to Jane and said, "I'm sorry, Jane. There's nothing I can do."

"Hey, it's okay, amiga. Well, guess I'd better be getting home."

They made their way downstairs in silence. Daria opened the front door and paused, worry in her eyes. "Didn't you mention an old bomb shelter at your house?" she asked Jane.

"Yeah, my mom's got her kiln set up in there."

"Well, if you can lock the door from the inside, maybe you should sleep in there tonight."

"I dunno. It'd take a lot of rearranging..."

"I'd help you if I could. Hell, I'd do it for you. But..." Daria's eyes flicked in her mother's direction, then back. She saw worry in Jane's eyes echoing her own. Coming to a decision, Daria turned to face Helen. "Mom, there's something else..."

Helen cut her off. "Now, Daria, you might possibly get some time off those two weeks for good behavior, which includes not arguing with your parents. By the same token, you can certainly get time added for misbehavior, which you're in danger of right now. Now say goodbye to Jane and come and help me with dinner."

Struggling with unaccustomed emotions, Daria turned back to Jane, stared intently into her friend's eyes and said, "See you in the morning."

Jane smiled in understanding. Placing a hand on Daria's shoulder, she replied, "See you in the morning," turned, and walked out the door.

Daria stood watching her walk across their front yard, the driveway, and the neighbor's front yard, stepping or hopping over shrubbery as she went, and smiled a crooked little smile at her utter indifference to sidewalks. Then, sighing, she closed the door and turned back toward the kitchen.

Arms crossed, frowning slightly, Helen regarded her from the kitchen entryway. "Don't you think you're spending a lot of time with your friend, considering how short a time you've known her?"

Daria gave her a quizzical look and replied, "How would I know? I never had one before." Then, eyes on the floor, she walked past Helen and into the kitchen. Helen looked after her with a regretful expression for a second, but then put on her lawyer face and followed her in.

-o0o-

At the dinner table, Helen looked from Daria, who was unhappily contemplating her peas, to Jake's paper, to Quinn's pout. She sighed and said, "How was your day, Quinn?"

"It was _awful,_"Quinn whined. "The whole school's terrified of Daria 'cause she's some kind of wicked _witch_ or something, and now they're starting to look at _me_ funny, and you won't even let me deny we're _related,_ and my popularity's going down the _dumpster!_ I don't even have a _date_ tonight, because of her!"

Helen frowned. "Quinn, you will not talk about your sister like that. You don't have a date tonight because you're grounded, and you have no one but yourself to blame for that. And you'd better not have a date tomorrow, or any other night for the next three weeks, for that same reason. Is that understood?"

Quinn stared down at her plate and said nothing. Helen looked from her to Jake's paper and then to Daria, who still seemed to be mourning the passing of her peas, and back to the paper.

"Jake."

Answer came there none.

"Jake," Helen said again, more insistently.

The paper quivered. There was a sigh from behind it, and it was slowly lowered to reveal Jake's face down to the eyes. "Yes, dear?"

"How was your day today?"

The eyes shifted left and right. There was another sigh, then, "Fine."

Helen gripped her knife and fork with unneccessary force, unnoticed by anyone but Daria. "Did you close any deals today?"

Jake's eyes darted from Quinn to Daria, as if begging one of them to blurt out something. "No."

Helen inhaled and exhaled audibly, then asked, "Did you meet any prospective clients?"

The paper had started to rise again, but stopped. "No."

Helen carefully laid her knife and fork down, and carefully smiled. Jake's paper trembled slightly. "Did anything interesting happen today at all?"

Jake swallowed. Helen was in 'catch up with the family's day' mode, and she wanted some input from everyone, and she wasn't going to be satisfied until she got it. Desperately, his mind scrabbled through the detritus of his totally boring and uneventful day. He had sat in his office all day, waiting, and no one had come, no one had called. His same-as-usual lunch had been the high point of the wasted day, that or... well, it was something...

"Uh, well, you know that guy on Talk Radio Lawndale? He says there have been UFO sightings in the area the last few nights. And people called in who'd actually seen them, right over town!"

"Yeah, some guys called Z ninety-three and told Bing and the Spatula Man the same thing!" Quinn piped up.

"I certainly hope you two don't believe that claptrap," Helen said. The people who claim to see flying saucers today are the same people who used to see ghosts and werewolves, and saw witches riding on broomsticks back in the sixteen hundreds, and elves and fairies before that."

"How do you suppose those people live so long?" Daria deadpanned.

Helen glared at Daria, then said, " There's a perfectly logical explanation for this cluster of sightings being reported just now. That stupid UFO convention is going on over in Oakwood, and there was something about UFOs on TV a few days ago, and now some silly weak-minded people who aren't getting enough attention have decided it would be fun to make up some stories and see if they can get on TV or radio. They ought to make people like that rake leaves and sweep sidewalks around municipal buildings until they get their bellyful of attention."

"Yeah. Make 'em wear fluorescent orange jumpsuits. Unfashionable ones." Daria added, still straight-faced.

"Eeeww!" Quinn squealed.

-o0o-

Daria awoke from troubled dreams to the strident buzzing of her alarm. Sitting on the bed, rubbing an aching shoulder, she tried unsuccessfully to remember what she had been dreaming about just seconds before. She was sure, however, that it had been unpleasant.

She found and donned her glasses, then gazed out her window at a low, leaden sky hanging over Lawndale. It was the kind of sky that intermittently spit rain, sleet, and snow all day, then turned bitterly cold at nightfall. A sky one seldom saw in May. She placed her palm on the windowpane. It felt like a little above seventy. No sleet and snow then, but still, a nasty sky. Daria put a hand on her stiff neck, then froze. Thoughts of Jodie and Jane and the small wounds on their necks surged to the forefront of her consciousness. Feeling no such wound on her neck, nor one on her side, her thoughts were immediately of Jane, who definitely did have them. Suddenly she wanted very much to see Jane. She rapidly began getting dressed.

Quinn was huddled over her Model Krunch cereal when Daria entered the kitchen. Jake was eating a waffle and Helen was filling her travel mug with coffee. Daria scanned the cereal shelf's contents for something with some flavor. Helen chose this moment to speak.

"No time, gotta rush. Early meeting. You two remember that you're grounded and come straight home from school. No fashion club and no dates, **Quinn**, and no friends, **Daria.** And no whining. You're being punished. You're not supposed to like it." With that, she was gone.

Daria looked back at the cereal box in her hand, and shoved it angrily back on the shelf. Screw breakfast. She grabbed an apple and a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter as she passed, shoved the apple in her jacket pocket, and exited by the side door.

Thinking seriously uncomplimentary thoughts about her mother, Daria angled away from the house toward the street. Suddenly she heard a string of invective that would make a New York dock walloper proud, in her mother's voice. Helen was standing by her red SUV, shaking her fist at an overhanging tree branch, calling down hair-raising curses on... Daria looked at the branch more closely... a squirrel. Dribbles of liquid on the SUV's roof and running down the windshield testified that the rodent had just done a number one on it. It chattered back at Helen in a tone that was obviously not complimentary. The scene, which would have seemed droll any other time, now added to her anger at her mother, the foreboding oppressiveness of the dark morning, and a feeling of impending misfortune. She felt a rising urge to lash out against it all.

"You get your hairy little ass out of here before I get a shotgun and blow you to hell!" Helen threatened. The squirrel chattered and chirred right back at her, and crouched aggressively, as if threatening to pounce on her. Anger rising, Daria wished they'd both shut up and go away.

"Why you... Try it, fuzznuts, and you'll die screaming!" Helen shouted, looking around for a rock. The squirrel made a noise halfway between a snarl and a razzberry and bared his orange incisors.

Daria was overcome by the thought of how much she hated having this person as a mother. She felt a rising ball of blazing anger... Almost too late, she realized what was happening, focused her attention on the squirrel, and let go. It gave a squawk that was almost a scream and a jerk that threw it off the branch. It landed on the hood of Helen's SUV, eyeballs hanging completely out of its head, steam and pinkish gray brains coming out its ears. Startled, Helen jumped back.

Daria stared wide-eyed at the former squirrel for a moment, then said, "Damn. Good one, Mom. You gotta teach me how to do that curse!"

Helen whirled at the sound of her voice. "Daria! How long have you... uhh, I didn't..." then, catching the beginning of a smirk forming on her daughter's face, she said, "What do you know about that? Did you do it?"

"Who, me? How would I do it? You're the one who put the die screaming fuzznuts curse on him."

"Daria Marie Morgendorffer! Tell me the truth!"

"Oh, sure. I told you the truth a couple of days ago, remember? Just before you grounded me for lying and insulting your intelligence. Well, you can't say I don't learn from my mistakes. Have a nice day."

"Daria ! You stop right there, and you answer me right now!"

Daria turned back and faced her mother squarely. "All right. You've got squirrel brains on your lapel. And that's the truth."

Helen stared in dismay at the gruesome grayish gobbet on the lapel of her crimson power suit. As she hurried back inside, Daria turned on her heel and stalked off schoolward.

-o0o-

A cold knot of fear was growing alongside Daria's cooling but still present anger; they chilled and seared the clammy hand of foreboding that gripped her heart as she strode rapidly along. note to self: save for next Bulwer-Lytton contest _Damn Mom for provoking me like that, _she thought. _If she knew how close she just came to getting her brain fried... And damn me for losing control like that! I've always been in control to the point of being repressed. What the hell happened?_

Finally her brain realized what her feet already knew. Jane. She had to see Jane; to know that she was all right. She half-ran the last half block up to Jane's front door and rang the bell. She managed to wait almost two seconds before she started to knock. By a major effort of will she stopped herself. _Idiot! You're ten minutes early! You've got no right to go beating down the door like a bill collector, even if you are about to wet your pants if you don't see Jane **right this minute! **_She pounded on the door again.

She was about to run around the house and try the back door when Trent's oldmobile pulled into the Lane driveway. She ran up to him as he was getting out of the car, then hesitated. She'd never spoken to him before, never even been introduced. He looked tired as he pulled himself up out of the car, muscles twitching in his wiry arms. He smelled like a tavern at closing time, and his dark eyes looked as though they'd seen more of the scuzzy bottom of life than anyone should have at his age. The realization that she was staring at him like a brain-damaged thirteen-year-old fangirl snapped her out of it, and her fear for Jane took over.

"Trent! Would you please wake Jane up she's not answering the door and she's going to be late for school and I'm worried about her!"

Trent leaned back against the car, surprised by Daria's intensity. "Whoa! Uh, Daria, right?"

"Yes. Please, Trent!"

"Uh, okay, I guess I can get my guitar and stuff later," he muttered, closing the car door and starting toward the house. "Funny, I didn't think it was quite time for school yet."

Daria blushed, knowing that it was somewhat early, but said nothing.

Trent opened the door and gestured for Daria to enter. "Janie!" he called out in a gravelly, overworked-sounding voice. "You up? Your friend is here!" He checked the dining room and the kitchen. "She's not downstairs," he said, turning to Daria. "Why don't you go on upstairs, in case she's not dressed yet?"

Daria nodded and hurried up the stairs. She knocked on Jane's door and called her name, then listened. No sound of breathing or movement from Jane's room, no sound from the bathroom down the hall, nothing. She opened the door.

Trent heard the alarm in Daria's cry of "JANE!" and ran up the stairs. He stopped just inside Jane's room. Daria stood there, alone. "Jeez, Daria. You scared the crap out of me."

Daria jerked her head around to face him, hair whipping out behind. "Trent, she's gone!"

"Aw, Daria, she's probably just out running or something. Don't freak."

"Trent, look at the window!"

"So what? She sleeps with it open sometimes in the spring and fall."

"Not all the way open like that, I'll bet. Certainly not with her top sheet hanging halfway out of it. And where's the windowscreen? It's gone!"

Trent stepped to the window and looked out. "Hmm, you're ... oh, there it is, on the..." He paused. "...on top of the gazebo. That's not right."

"Trent, four students have disappeared from Lawndale High in the last few days. Now Jane makes five. You've got to call the police and report her missing."

He turned and started for the door, a determined look on his face, but stopped and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, there's a problem with that, Daria. See, our parents aren't here right now, and Janie's still a minor, and I'm not her legal guardian. If I call the cops that's bound to come up, and our folks'll be in big trouble for abandonment or neglect or something. What I need to do is call them first and get at least one of them to come home."

-o0o-

_Trent had a point,_ Daria conceded as she continued her unhappy way to school, oblivious to the howling of neighborhood dogs. _An investigation is already underway, and if the other missing students are found, Jane will be, too. No reason to get her parents in hot water with the law. And there's a small chance that Jane went to school really early this morning, or is out running or sketching, or something._ Daria tried very hard to believe this. Ahead of her, a squirrel fled down a limb, paused for a second at the swaying tip, and leapt off. It landed on a lawn with a loud _whop!_ sound and scampered frantically away.

_Dammit, I should have thought of some way to get Mom to let Jane stay last night. I should have told her... what? Hell, I still can't think of anything. What damn good is all this intelligence if it can't solve a simple problem like that? I bet if I had Quinn's ability, I could have done something. I'd set it on Deep Snowjob or Extra Butter or whatever, and I'd make big sad puppy eyes at her, and... ewww. On second thought, I'm probably not cut out to have Quinn's ability. _

_I need to learn to use my abilities, and to control them. I never expected them to increase so fast. One day it's cockroaches, next day I almost make my mom's head explode. Well, judging by that squirrel, Mom's head wouldn't have actually exploded, but I doubt she'd have survived it. And I almost did it without even intending to! Definitely got to get that under control._

Daria was within sight of school now, and as she watched, a blue Lexus pulled up at the main entrance, and a girl with flaming orange hair got out._ Well lookie here, _she thought._ Quinn scammed a ride off Dad. _The girl dropped her bookbag and put her hands to her head. _Whoa, there,_ Daria thought in alarm. _That's all right. I didn't ask for a ride. Didn't want a ride. If Quinn got a ride, it's fine with me._

Quinn, if that's who the girl was, took her hands off her head, bent down as if saying something to the driver of the Lexus, and picked up her bookbag. The car pulled away. Daria breathed a sigh of relief.

Hesitantly, Daria approached Lawndale High. _I don't know what's going on with me this morning, _she thought, _But I sure wish I didn't have to go to school today. I need to go off somewhere and work on my control, but no telling how Mom would react if I did, especially on top of that incident this morning. I guess I'll be all right if I just don't get hacked off at anyone. _ She trudged on, wondering how one practiced making only selected peoples' heads explode.

Daria looked up as she turned onto the walk that led up to Lawndale High's doors. Usually students would be loitering near the doors in small groups, but this morning they were all further off in either direction. She shrugged and went in, hoping against hope to see Jane.

At her locker, Daria looked at the second locker to her left. Jane's locker. Closed. No Jane.

There was a change in the background noise. "What's that? What's happening? What's wrong?" Daria looked around. The anxiety and agitation levels were rising in this hallway, mostly in her vicinity. She must be causing it somehow. "Anxiety!" a girl wailed. "Agitation!" a boy near her cried, searching agitatedly for the source of his agitation.

_Got to get control of my mind! Cool breezes! Cool breezes!_

"Ooh, cool!" "I'm cold!" Me, too!" "My mind! My mind!" "Where'd that breeze come from?" "I'm cold, Kevvie!"

_Oh, no! I've got to stop broadcasting! Think of something neutral, something dull. The floor! _Daria stared down at the floor, concentrated on the streaky, swirly patterns in the vinyl or whatever it was, tried to get her whole mind on the patterns, the fascinating patterns.

A chorus of soft oohs and aahs broke out around her and, as she followed a somewhat interesting swirl in the floor, she was surprised to find it blocked from view by a girl on her knees, studying the floor close up. She looked up to find that everyone within twenty feet of her, and many students farther off than that, were also studying the floor, many on hands and knees.

_Oh, shit! I can't control my thoughts, can't hold it in! Got to get away before something bad happens! Shit! Shit! Shit! Gotta go! _Daria headed for the nearest girls' restroom at a fast walk, but found herself shoved aside and nearly trampled by a herd of girls and more than one boy, who all stampeded into the restroom chanting "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Dumbfounded, Daria looked around. The hall was nearly empty for fifty feet either way. The few students left were fast receding, scurrying off in search of more distant restrooms. Ignoring as best she could the sounds coming from the restroom she'd been heading for, and refusing to think about what might be taking place in there, she tried to think what to do. Mr. O'Neill's was the closest classroom, and that was where she was supposed to be, so she angled across the hall toward his door. Halfway there, she thought of a thought-masking tactic that might work. She began to go through the multiplication table in her mind. _One times one is one, one times two...aaah. Two times two is four, two times three is six, two times four..._

She reached her desk and sat down, locked her gaze on the empty desktop in front of her, and did her best to think of nothing but the multiplication table. She was vaguely aware that there were a few other students in the room, and she began to hear a low murmuring as some of them began chanting the multiplication table along with her.

_Oh, ... darn,_ she thought. Doing her best not to repeat the incident in the hallway, she got out her English book. Opening it at random, she read:

Gerunds

A gerund is a verbal that ends in _-ing_ and functions as a noun. The term _verbal_ indicates that a gerund, like the other two kinds of verbals, is based on a verb and therefore expresses action or a state of being. However, since a gerund functions as a noun, it occupies some positions in a sentence that a noun ordinarily would, for example: subject, direct object, subject complement, and object of preposition.

Daria heard the mumbling pick up again, but at least it pertained to English. A movement caught her eye and she looked up. Mr' O'Neill was waving a small pink slip of paper at her.

"Uhh... you," he said, smiling unhappily, "I think it would be best if you'd, ah, study independently today. Uh... here," he slid the slip to the corner of his desk nearest Daria, then stood up and backed away.

"Me?" she asked.

"Uh, yes. You," he replied, still smiling anxiously and backing away farther while trying to look like he wasn't backing away. He made a tiny shooing motion with his hands.

Sighing, Daria returned her English book to her book bag, got up, took the slip from the corner of O'Neill's desk, and left. In the hallway several students, apparently waiting to enter the classroom, all backed away from her. She wished she knew what they were picking up from her, and how she could stop putting it out. When this got around, she'd be the most shunned girl in the history of Lawndale High. She turned and headed the other way so they could get to the door, wondering where she could 'study independently.'

Ahead, Principal Angela Li emerged from her office. She stopped and frowned. "Miss Morgendorffer, why are you not in class?" she asked.

Daria held out the pink slip. "Mr. O'Neill told me to study independently."

Ms. Li stepped forward to take the slip. As she approached she frowned, then grimaced as if in discomfort, but, after hesitating, came on. She took the paper from Daria's outstretched hand as if she feared it might explode. She fell back a step, but forced herself to stop there and examine it, then looked up at Daria.

"You seem... very unhappy today, Miss Morgendorffer. What is your problem?"

Daria hesitated, then chose her words very carefully. "Some of the missing students are my friends."

"I see." Li pinched the bridge of her nose as if thinking, or in pain, or both. "Wait for me out front."

Ms. Li returned to her office, and Daria turned right and went out the entrance. She paused by the doors, then continued ontoward the street about thirty feet. _That ought to be far enough,_ she thought.

Daria looked around. The morning sunshine warmed the air and sparkled off the buildings, automobiles, and infrastructure of Lawndale just as if all was right with the world, as if all her troubles would vanish like morning mist any minute now, as if no malevolent force were snatching away the town's young people in the dark of night. As if she weren't being thrown out of school for suddenly developing mutant superpowers that she couldn't control.

Ms. Li emerged holding a folded piece of paper, and marched resolutely up to Daria, although it was plain that the last few feet cost her something. She handed the paper to Daria, then stepped back. "You are not being charged with an absence or any sort of misbehavior, but I want you to go home and not return to school until your presence is less... disruptive."

"Ms. Li, what is it that I'm doing that's so disruptive? No one has actually told me."

"Not 'doing', per se. It's... It's as if there's an aura of anxiety and unhappiness around you." Ms. Li looked as if she would say more, but turned and went back inside.

Daria turned her back on the school. Lawndale lay before her, uncaring, unsuspecting and unprepared. _Now what?_ she asked herself.

-o0o-


	8. Chapter Eight

**ESTRANGESTERS**  
Chapter Eight  
--o0o--

Daria set out in the direction of home, pondering what to do. _This is my chance, _she thought, _possibly my only chance for a while, to work on my control. I'm fast becoming able to do new things, and to do the older things more strongly. I've got to learn to control these powers before I hurt someone, and before I get labeled a freak. And in some cases, learn exacty what those powers are._

_The first thing I need to do_ _is learn how not to broadcast my emotions and thoughts like that. But how? I guess I'll have to just try something, approach a person or persons, see how they react, then try something else and approach another test subject, until they don't notice anything. _

Daria stopped walking. _I can't do that at home,_ she thought. _So either I break grounding, or I stay home and inflict myself on no one but my family until I learn to control it. Or until Mom can't stand it any more and cancels the grounding. Hmmm. Tempting. But will she? Or will she ship me off to a mental ward somewhere? Or call those government guys to come get me?_

Dogs suddenly began whining and howling all around her. _I guess that last thought spiked my anxiety level. And well it should. If those guys get hold of me while I'm showing undeniable evidence of mental powers, especially powers with obvious military potential, I may never see civilian life again. I **can't** let them see or hear of me like this._ Making a decision, Daria set off toward downtown Lawndale.

--o0o--

Several hours later, after an abortive approach to downtown, a hasty detour to Oak Creek Park and then to the landfill, and finally a walk down Degas Street, a tired but satisfied Daria headed toward home via the quarry overlook road. She had a vague almost-headache in a place where she'd never had a headache before, and a sensation of an energy drain stopped, like a long-tensed muscle she'd finally noticed and consciously relaxed. And even though tired from the mental gymnastics she'd put herself through, she felt a rebuilding of energy, as of a reservoir refilling or a battery recharging.  
_  
What's that about,_ she wondered. _I seriously doubt that I actually have a power pack inside me that powers my mental abilities. What I did to that squirrel this morning and all those vermin around the landfill later would take more raw energy than a large car battery could hold, and broadcasting commands and emotions and whatnot has to take some energy. On the other hand, I don't think I'm ready to believe in something like The Force that I can tap into. Well, no need to worry about that now._

Daria was studying her lengthening shadow and wondering if she'd get home before her parents did, when she noticed a vague feeling of unease. She looked around her at the field the dirt road known either as Quarry Overlook Road or Lovers' Lane was currently leading her through. Nothing moved but gently swaying weed tops and a few butterflies, but the feeling intensified to a sense of impending danger. She looked back up the track the way she had come, toward the woods atop what remained of the hill. Just beyond those trees the road ran along the edge of the eighty-some-odd foot drop to the old quarry floor and the small but deep body of water known as Blue Pool. All had been quiet when she'd passed that way not long before...

Then she heard it. Dogs barking. The sound seemed to come from the woods. Many dogs barking. Coming closer.

They burst out of the woods in hot pursuit of a deer, baying like hounds, thirty or more of them. The deer easily outdistanced them, and they stopped and watched, panting, as the deer bounded across the field and disappeared into a far woodlot. When the last flash of its white tail vanished and she turned and continued on her way, her movement attracted the dogs' attention. A single deep _woof!_ from their leader, and they came charging down the slope straight at her, baying at first and then, when she didn't run, deadly silent. The terrible realization struck her that they meant to drag something down and kill it, and she was something they knew they could catch.

Knowing that running was useless, Daria focused on the leader first, and blew his brains out. Then she picked out others in order of their proximity or their scary-looking-ness, The skulls of the first seven burst open most gratifyingly, splattering brains and eyeballs abroad. The next several went down like the squirrel this morning, brains boiled and eyeballs blown out but skulls staying intact. A dozen or more still remained, and still came on at a run, straight at her. They apparently didn't realize she was killing them one by one, and now they were less than a hundred yards away.

_I'm getting tired,_ she thought, _I don't have the energy left to blow all their brains out._ She tried making one dog trip another, but the dogs were much quicker and more agile than high school boys. An attempt to make them fight each other failed for the same reason. And now they were much closer. She killed the two now in the lead, a pair of big German Shepherds, by destroying their brains with a minimum of wasted energy, but she knew she still wouldn't be able to do that to all of them, not without a break.

She used her power to jab one in the eyes. It stopped and yelped and rubbed its front paws over its eyes. Quickly, she did the same to another six, and they all stopped. She killed the next two with minimal energy expenditure, then poked the last one in the eyes. It stopped, but some of the previous six were coming for her again. Through a rising haze of mental fatigue, Daria focused on the brain of the nearest dog. She caught an image of a brain-shaped, sparkling mass, whose concentrations of tiny sparks probably indicated the actve areas of its brain. Not what she wanted. She tried again. The image changed, the sparkles fading and a more detailed form emerging, a form that resembled a large pecan kernel doing something naughty to a small sweet potato, with some grapes and peas thrown in, all connected by tubes and cables. Quickly Daria focused in on one of the largest tubes, thick-walled and pulsing rhythmically. This was probably it. She visualized a razor-sharp hooked blade slicing a three-inch-long gash in this tube. Her mental image was suddenly obscured by a flood of hot, dark blood.

Out in the field in front of her, the dog yelped, stumbled a few steps, and went down. Daria quickly switched to the next, then the next, slashing open their carotid arteries also.

The last three were almost on her. Without thinking, she reverted to the earliest manifestation of her power, and stopped them in their tracks. Two of them were mongrels; thin, shaggy, and vaguely wolflike, slightly smaller than German Shepherds. They stood, quivering and snarling, apparently still eager to drag her down. Daria shuddered. These dogs had been born wild, probably of wild parents. They were, and would always be, a menace to humans. She pulped the brain of one, then the other, and they dropped in their tracks.

The last dog was a black Labrador, barely out of puppyhood. It was sleek and well-groomed, except for muddy paws and a few burrs, and it was wearing a collar with tags. Daria glared at it and it cringed, as much as it could while immobilized, and made puppy eyes at her. _Maybe it's not incorrigible yet, she thought._

She made it walk over to one of the dead dogs and sniff it. "Bad dog!" she said, and sent it feelings of disapproval and what she hoped was doggy guilt. "Bad, bad dog!" She sent it images of the pack chasing a deer and attempting to attack her, and accompanied them with three mental swats on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. "No, no, no!" It cringed and whined, which she allowed, and she caught a mental picture of a yard and a house, and a family with children, and food and water dishes and a doghouse. "Good," she said and thought at it, _Yes. Go home!_

It didn't need to be told twice. It set out for Lawndale at a dead run. Watching it go, she hoped she'd done the right thing, and that it would resist the call of the wild in the future. Turning, she resumed walking along the dirt road toward her subdivision, but suddenly the dire peril of the last moments, the gruesome agony of the death she'd so narrowly avoided hit her like a ton of cold lasagna. She collapsed to hands and knees and was forced to wait till an uncontrollable fit of shakes passed.

She was nearly to the paved road when the sheriff's car pulled alongside her and stopped. The deputy gave her a once-over, then rolled down his window partway and said, "Afternoon, miss. What are you doing out here?"

"Walking."

"Just walking?" He glanced up the road toward lovers' lane. "I thought you might have had, um, car trouble or something. Would you mind showing me some ID?"

She got out her billfold, removed her student ID card from it and handed it to him. "No, just walking. I live less than a mile from here. Thanks for asking, though."

"This isn't a good place to go walking these days," he said, examining the card. "A pack of feral dogs has been seen around the quarry and adjoining woods a lot lately. There've been reports of them menacing people and attacking pets. A pack of feral dogs can be more dangerous than a pack of wolves, you know, because they have no fear of man." He handed the card back.

"That may not be a problem anymore," she replied, putting away the card, "I saw a bunch of dogs lying in that field back there, and they seemed to be dead."

"Really," he said, looking in the direction her thumb indicated. He reached over and opened the front passenger side door. "Would you mind showing me?"

"Not at all," Daria said, kicking herself mentally as she walked around the car.

--o0o--

"Daria Marie Morgendorffer! What is the meaning of this?"

_Oh, crap, I'm in for it now,_ Daria thought. Helen was standing on the front porch, hands on hips, phone gripped in one hand like a headsman's axe. Quinn peeked out from behind her.

_She must have seen the deputy's cruiser pulling away, and no telling what Quinn's been telling her, all on top of the fact that I've been violating my grounding all day. She'll probably make me wear a tracking collar to school now, and have a lock installed on the outside of my door._

"Get in this house right now, young lady!"

Suddenly feeling every mile she'd walked today, Daria wearily trudged up the walk and inside. Helen closed the door as if she were springing a trap and said, "Now explain to me why you were brought here by the police."

"He was keeping me from being eaten by wild dogs."

"Don't you smart off to me, missy! Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

A stranger would not have seen the slightest change in Daria's lack of expression, but Quinn recognized the look Daria gave people who'd just said or done something stupid. "A large pack of feral dogs has been causing trouble in this area. Joggers menaced, pets carried off and eaten, that sort of thing. When he saw me walking alone he gave me a ride home. Deputy Jonas Lawson, badge fifty-three, Carter County Sheriff's department. Call and ask him," Daria challenged, staring Helen straight in the eye.

Surprised, Helen asked, "Did you actually see any wild dogs?"

"Yes."

Much of the anger faded from Helen's expression. "And what were they doing?"

"The ones I saw are dead." Daria could almost read Helen's thoughts from the look in her eyes. She didn't want to ask why Daria had said 'are dead' instead of 'were dead'. And she was remembering the strange case of the squirrel that died of a brain blowout this morning. The expression Daria found most interesting, though, was Quinn's. Rather than vindictive as she'd expected, Quinn looked anxious and unhappy. It made her wonder if she was still broadcasting her emotional state.

Helen tried another tack. "Quinn tells me she heard that you left school during first period. Is that true?"

"Yes."

Helen thought she smelled blood and moved in. "And that you were frightening the other students. Is **_that_ **true?"

Daria glanced at Quinn, who shrugged her shoulders apologetically. _Strange. She looks like she's worried I'll get mad at her. What's that about?_ "Not exactly." She pulled the paper Li had given her out of her pocket and handed it to her mother. "They were disturbed when I was near them. Ms. Li said, quote: "It's as if there's an aura of anxiety and unhappiness around you." She told me to stay away from school as long as that was the case."

Helen looked up from the note. "What? Do you expect me to believe..." She broke off, deterred by Daria's unflinching stare, and read the rest of the note. "What does she mean by that? I don't detect any such aura."

"Good. I've been working on controlling it all day."

Helen glared at her. In a voice dripping sarcasm she said, "Oh, now, let me see if I've got this straight. There _was_ this aura, but you worked hard at controlling it all day, while _not _in school and _not_ at home, as per the conditions of your grounding, and now it's gone, and its absence is proof that you're telling the truth. Come on, Daria, you can do better than that." Quinn winced at what seemed a devastating broadside of Helen's courtroom prowess.

_Of course I can. Alright, try this on for size. _Daria began to warm up her angst. _Jane. My friend, my first, my only friend. Vanished, snatched away by some strange malevolent... something, quite possibly never to be seen again. Jane, who you wouldn't allow to sleep over last night. Jane is gone._

Daria released the control she'd so recently achieved. Helen gasped and staggered back against the stair railing. Quinn howled and disappeared into the kitchen. Daria heard the side patio door jerked open and then begin to close on its own.

"I didn't say it was gone. I said I've been working on controlling it."

"Oh my God, Daria, what **_is _**that?"

"That's what the students were disturbed about. That's why Ms. Li sent me home. That's what I've been trying to suppress all day, and finally succeeded. I can't detect it myself, but I'm guessing it's a sort of broadcast version of my emotional state."

Tears ran down Helen's cheeks. She clamped her hands to the sides of her head and moved unsteadily away. Daria didn't follow her. "Wha... you mean you can't feel that?" Helen asked.

"Of course I feel it, it's how I feel! I just can't tell whether I'm broadcasting it or not."

Having reached what she considered a bearable distance from her, Helen stopped and looked at Daria with dismay and sorrow in her eyes. "Why, Daria? Why do you feel like this? How long have you felt like this?"

Daria stared at her. "Since this morning. Since I got to Jane's house and found out that she's missing. She's been taken, like Jodie and the others. She's gone."

Helen shrank a little under Daria's expressionless gaze. She found it doubly disturbing now that she knew the grief, pain, anger, and loss it concealed. "Oh Daria, I'm sorry. But we don't know that she was taken. Maybe she just went somewhere."

"In nothing but the shorts and t-shirt she slept in? No money, no street clothes, no shoes? And no sketchbook? She'd never voluntarily go anywhere without that."

"Daria, don't look at me like that. She might still have disappeared if I'd let her sleep over last night. And you might have disappeared with her. It's not my fault she's gone."

Daria continued to stare at Helen for a few more seconds, then said, "Maybe, maybe not. I guess we'll never know now."

"Daria, could you please, uh, turn that off?"

"I wish. I should be able to stop transmitting it, though. Hang on." Daria lowered her head, grasped her chin in one hand, closed her eyes, and appeared to be concentrating. The intensity of the emotions Helen was feeling began to decline, somewhat unsteadily, but within about fifteen seconds Helen could no longer feel them.

Helen straightened up and put herself in order. "That's much better."

"For you, maybe," Daria muttered.

Helen frowned at her daughter. "We're still left with the question of why you violated your grounding."

Daria cocked an eyebrow at her. "I thought that would be obvious."

"Humor me."

"I did what I believed you would want me to do in the circumstances if you had all the facts. I figured you wouldn't want me to miss any more school than I had to, and I figured if you came home to find me with the 'aura' going full blast and no clue how to control it, you wouldn't be pleased. So I tried to figure out how to get it under control, and I succeeded. To do that, I had to wander around town and observe peoples' reactions, so that's what I did. It was a judgement call."

Helen looked at Daria for a few seconds in silence, then said, "All right. Lord knows I don't want to discourage you from using youor best judgement, unless it goes horribly wrong. But what the heck is that 'aura' anyway, and what caused it? And what did you do to suppress it?"

Daria shrugged. "I don't know what it is. I had it when I got to school this morning. I strongly suspect it was triggered when I found out that Jane had been snatched away in the night. As for how I'm controlling it, there aren't any words to answer that. I guess it's kind of like how some people learn how to consciously control their pulse rate, and others learn to move a cursor around on a monitor screen with brain waves."

Helen paused again in thought. "Hmm. Well, I suppose I should be glad that you were able to deal with it with no more disruption than that. Speaking of this morning, though, what's the story on that squirrel?"

Thinking quickly, Daria concluded that to tell the truth now about the squirrel would lead inevitably to telling the truth about the goings-on between her and Quinn at school, which she and Quinn had already lied about, and which she now regretted. It would have to be done sometime, but not now, she decided.

"You mean that squirrel you were facing off against this morning? Last I saw of it, it was on your hood."

"Daria, I think you've been honest with me so far this evening, and I want you to continue to be. Tell me what happened to that squirrel."

"Mom, just because a strange thing happened to me today doesn't mean I'm responsible for every other strange thing too. That aura thing didn't happen till after I found out that Jane is gone, and anyway, it's a long leap from unintentionally radiating unhappiness and not being able to control it, to intentionally making animals' brains shoot out their ears. I didn't do anything to that squirrel. I didn't have anything against that squirrel. It was your SUV he tinkled on. At the time I was preoccupied with getting to Jane's to see if she was okay."

Helen had to pause again. On the one hand, it seemed ridiculous to think that Daria had killed that squirrel this morning from a distance with some bizarre mental power, but on the other hand, this incident in school this morning... she just didn't have enough information to reach a conclusion. She sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and said, "It's late. I'm going to get out of these work clothes. Why don't you order some pizzas, Daria? You know what we all like."

Helen headed for the stairs and Daria went to the kitchen. After she'd called in the order, she just sat there, a captive of fatigue and angst. Pizza, especially Pizza King pizza, made her think of Jane. Would the two of them ever again share a sinfully greasy pepperoni and sausage pizza in their favorite booth at their beloved, slightly grubby hangout?

_Tomorrow, _she thought, _if those FBI guys are still there, I'm going to find out what progress they're making. I'm going to find out what I can do to help, and I'm not going to take no for an answer. Jane is out there somewhere, in who knows what sort of danger, suffering who knows what, and I want her back. First friend I ever have in my whole miserable life, damn it, and almost as soon as I meet her, someone snatches her. Well, I won't stand for it._

The front doorbell roused Daria from dark musings. Helen entered the kitchen, followed by a dorky looking delivery boy carrying the pizzas, followed by Jake and Quinn. With a start, Daria recognized the delivery boy as Artie, the person who had recently claimed to be a UFO abductee on _Sick Sad World._

After he set the pizzas down, he noticed and pointed to a mark on Quinn's neck, a mark that Daria had not seen. "Ah, I see you've been abducted too! That's where they insert the heart probe. Hurts like the dickens! When they did me, they stuck another one here," he went on, pointing at his right side, "That's the one that looks around in your abdominal cavity, and it hurts even worse! Then of course they have others that they stick in all your bodily orifices."

Quinn paled and shrank back behind Helen. Helen turned on Artie. "Young man! You can't talk to my daughters like that! I want you out of here right now!" Helen pulled some bills out of her billfold and thrust them at Artie. The frightened delivery boy barely managed to take the money before departing the house at his best speed.

Daria didn't notice his departure. She rushed to Quinn's side and pulled out the tail of her uncharacteristically long tee shirt on the right side. There it was.

"Oh, no." Daria looked up into Quinn's frightened eyes. "Quinn, why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried to, Daria, but this morning you stomped off before I could say anything, I couldn't get near you at school, and then you left and stayed gone all day. But that Artie guy's crazy, right? Please tell me he's crazy!"

"Yeah, he's probably crazy. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean he's wrong. So, let me guess. You woke up this morning tireder than when you went to bed, and you had those two marks that feel like half-healed cuts, but you don't remember how you got them."

"Yeah! Except I do remember some stuff. It's not all clear, but..."

"Tell me."

"Well, I was floating over my bed, and then I was floating across the room, and then I was outside, and there was this flash of green light, and I was in this small room with lots of blinky stuff everywhere, and then there was a white flash, and I was in this bigger space with lots of blinky stuff but it was kind of dark, and then these... _things_ put me on a metal table and it was real cold and I realized I was _naked_, and then they started sticking... _things_ in me and..."

"**_Gaaah!_**" Jake remarked.

"Quinn! What in the world are you going on about?" Helen demanded.

"Just listen! I'm _telling_ you!"

"Quinn, that's ridiculous! Have you been watching that awful Sick Disgusting World show?"

"Muh-O-om!"

Daria interrupted. "Mom, Jodie Landon had marks just like those before she disappeared two days ago, and Jane had them yesterday, before she disappeared. The only difference is that Quinn remembers some of what happened to her. I think..."

"Well, this conversation is entirely inappropriate for the dinner table."

"But we're not..."

"Sit down and eat your pizza before it gets cold."

-o0o-

Meanwhile, in a windowless office not too far away, a man sat listening to something over headphones, and occasionally sweeping a practiced eye over a bank of monitor screens. As he reached for a coffee mug, a red LED began blinking on a console before him. He pushed a button under the LED, swung a tiny mic near his mouth, and said, "0153. Line secure. Recording. Go."

A voice in his earphones said, "This is M79 in Lawndale. I just picked up something interesting from the Morgendorffer house. Seems a pizza delivery boy spotted a mark on Quinn Morgendorffer's neck and identified it as a sign that she'd been kidnapped by aliens. The mother freaked and ran him off."

"Uh, copy, M79, was the pizza boy named Artie?"

"Yes, he was."

"Be advised that this Artie is a known local UFO nut and not considered reliable."

"Understood, 0153, but following this, the older sibling, Daria, searched for and found a second similar mark on Quinn's abdomen, in the location Artie said it would be, and also that these marks correspond to marks Daria observed on two recent disappearees, one 'Jodie' and one 'Jane'.

"Copy, M79. Hold one while I cross-check something." Swiveling slightly, the man began typing at a keyboard and referring to two computer screens. He scrolled through a text file, then said, "I have a copy of an FBI report here. Yesterday a Jane Lane reported to FBI officers at Lawndale High School that she observed a set of such marks on one Jodie Landon, a fellow student, a day before Jodie went missing. This was corroborated by Daria. Jane Lane then showed the officers a set of marks, which she said were identical to Jodie's, on her own person. This was also corroborated by Daria. I don't show a Missing Persons report on any Jane from Lawndale. Can you confirm that Jane Lane is the Jane that Daria said is missing?"

"uhh... no, 0153, cannot confirm."

"Hmm. Anything else to report?"

"Yes. Quinn states that she has a partial memory of being abducted and probed last night. She said the marks are from the probing. Two other things, possibly unrelated; the mother suspects Daria of causing the death of a squirrel this morning, in some bizarre manner. Daria denies it. And Daria was sent home from school this morning for, quote, an aura of anxiety and unhappiness, unquote. Instead of going home, she stayed out till almost dark, claiming she was working on controlling her aura, and succeeded. Her mother accepted this explanation after some sort of demonstration."

"What sort?"

"From what I heard, Daria temporarily unsuppressed the aura. Quinn ran from the house and Helen sounded quite distressed."

"Hoo boy. Um, copy, M79. I'll write this up and get it off, and put a tickler on it."

"Shall I go on to my next subject, or stay with the Morgendorffers?"

"Keep monitoring the Morgendorffers for now, and ask again tomorrow if you haven't received further instructions."

"What's the interest in these people?"

"Lemme check... The primary interest is in Daria, some in Quinn. Beyond that, it's strict need to know."

The man disconnected from M79, then turned to his keyboard and brought up a report form on the screen. Fingers poised, he hesitated and grimaced in indecision. Then, bringing up a list of phone numbers, he selected one and hit ENTER.

In a dark sedan on a well-illuminated residential street, the man whose working designator was M79 stared at his cell phone for a few seconds before folding it up and clipping it to his shirt pocket. As he readjusted his headphones, he looked out his windshield, down the street toward the Morgendorffer house. He'd give a lot to know exactly what about Daria was so interesting to some federal agency. One thing he knew. As long as he'd been doing this, no one at 0153 had ever before said 'hoo boy', or anything resembling 'hoo boy' in his hearing.

-o0o-

After dinner, Quinn sought out Daria, and found her staring out the big dormer window above the stairs. "Daria, can you help keep me from getting abducted again?" she asked.

"That's something you should really go to Mom and Dad with."

"I can't talk to Mom! You saw how she was! She was about to call the padded wagon to haul me away, and she may yet!"

"Gosh, Quinn, I'd like to help you, I really would, but I'm just so busy these days trying to keep track of all the lies I've told for you, and looking over my shoulder for approaching goon squads and suchlike."

"Come on. I already promised I won't sic the guys on you if you stop making me hit myself and run into things and do embarrassing stuff."

"It has to be more than that, Quinn. You have to stop acting like my very existence is a mortal insult and embarrassment to you. You have to quit telling people I'm an orphaned distant relative or something. You have to accept me as I am and acknowledge me as your sister."

Quinn looked horrified. "You've got to be kidding!"

Daria's expression hardened. "You want me to go up against an entire race of technologically advanced starfaring aliens for you, while you continue to deny I'm your sister? Enjoy the probes, Princess." She returned her attention to the window.

Quinn paled. "All right, all right, you're my sister! Now will you help me?"

Daria looked back at Quinn and smiled lopsidedly. "Why certainly, Quinn. Anything for my sister. Give me twenty bucks."

"What?"

"For pizza. I'll need to question Artie, as he seems to be the only one besides you with any memory of the abduction experience. And I want you to start writing down everything you can remember about your abduction. We'll go over it later."

-o0o-

Daria was standing at the curb when Artie's battered Yugo pulled up. Artie looked at the house, then at Daria. "Hey, wasn't I just here an hour ago? This is the place with that scary woman, right?"

"This is the place."

"You guys must have really liked those last pizzas. Uh, do I have to go back in there to deliver this?"

"No, Artie, I'll take it in, but if you want a good tip you have to answer a few questions. How many times have you been kidnapped by these aliens?"

--o0o--

Quinn met Daria at the top of the stairs when she returned. "Did you talk to Artie?"

"Yeah."

"So what do you think? Did he really get kidnapped or is he crazy?"

"Both, I think."

"What did he say? Are they going to come back for me?"

"They might. Artie doesn't know why they're interested in us. If they decide they want you, they may come back tonight or tomorrow night."

"Oh, no! Daria, you've got to stop them!"

Daria gave her sister a look. "Don't worry. I'll just call Andrews Air Force Base and scramble a wing of F-15s. I'll order them to fly air cover over the house all night and shoot down anything that looks like a flying saucer."

"Great! Thanks, Da... wait a minute. Are you being sarcasmic?"

"The word is 'sarcastic,' and yes, I am. Why don't you summon some of your admirers to come and guard you tonight?"

"Huh? It doesn't work that way, Daria. If I want them to do something specific, I have to tell them. And I can't, uh, charm them unless they're looking at me or thinking about me. And anyway, there's no way Mom'd let them in the house, much less in my bedroom for the night. I wouldn't either, come to think of it."

"Uh huh. And how did you expect me to stop these aliens from kidnapping you?"

"Well, _duh,_ Daria, you're the mighty brain, as you keep rubbing my face in. Make them shoot each other with their death rays or something. You figure it out."

Daria held back an angry retort. Though she seemed to have remarkably little interest in helping herself here, Quinn was essentially right to let Daria handle it. Only Daria knew her capabilities and even she might not know all of them. "You're gonna have to help me, if you want to stay on this planet. When you were kidnapped last night, you said you remember floating over your bed, and then floating across your room. Did you struggle, or call for help?"

"I tried to but I couldn't. It was like I was molded in a big block of that tough Lawndale High jello. I could just barely move or make a sound at all."

"And then what happened? Did you go through the window?"

"The next thing I remember is being in the small place with all the blinky lights. Wait a minute-- I think I remember looking up at the stars, and right overhead there was this black triangle shape, and there were three blinking lights on it, a white one, a red one, and a blue one. Then there was a really bright greenish one in the middle of the others, and then I was in the small place. I don't remember how I got out of my room."

Daria sighed. _Not much, but it's something. Now for the hard part,_ she thought.

-o0o-

Daria opened her eyes. She had a feeling of approaching danger. She looked around. Her darkened room looked as it always did, except for the slivers of light leaking out of her closet where Quinn was sleeping. ... Daria's boots and sneakers, a stack of books, and a box of rocks sat forlornly outside the door whence they had been evicted.

Lying on her bed fully dressed, Daria unexpectedly felt herself getting drowsy too. Her sense of approaching danger was growing stronger, yet she could scarcely keep her eyes open. She pinched herself on the arm and the feeling receded but did not go away, so she pinched herself on the thigh, harder. That was better.

Something on her desk vibrated for a few seconds, then stopped, as if in sympathy to a low frequency engine note from a passing semi. Then one of her windowpanes began to rattle in its frame. Darioa looked around. There was no sound of a truck, no headlights sliding acroos the window.

Then she heard the faint, tinny sound of music. Recognizing the tune as being on the CD she currently had in her Walkman, she turned on the light, sat up, and picked up the Walkman from the floor to turn it off.

It was off.

Music continued to issue from the headphones. Daria turned it over, popped the battery hatch, and removed the batteries. The music continued to play. Daria staredat the empty battery compartment and felt a cold hand of fear clench in her gut. Trivial as the evidence seemed, she was convinced. They were coming.

_What should I do? What can I do? What can a teenage girl, unarmed, with pretty much zero useful knowledge of the enemy, do to prevent an alien abduction?_ Daria was suddenly very conscious of the hubris of her intentions.

LEDs on her keyboard and then on her tower began to flicker on and off at random. Daria stood up, crossed the room, and opened her closet door. Quinn peeked timidly out from under her blankets. Daria hesitated, then said, "Quinn. They're coming."

Quinn's eyes pleaded for reassurance. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. What I can," Daria replied, then reflected that honesty might not be the best policy in this particular case.

Behind Daria the old TV set mounted to the ceiling, the one for which there was no remote, the one that had not played once since they'd moved here, came on. It cast a bluish glow on her bed. From it came loud music, and a deep, resonant voice sang, "Shoo ba de doo, ba doo, dooby doo..."

Quinn lay there frozen in fear for about half a second, then, at the speed of panic she bolted out of the closet, almost knocking Daria down, and out into the hallway. Regaining her balance, Daria followed her down the hall, almost catching up to her as she paused to heave open the master bedroom door.

The lights were on. Jake lay in the middle of the bed and Helen knelt astraddle him. They were doing it. Quinn gasped. _Now I understand,_ thought Daria in a flash of revelation, _The baker in Carroll's The Hunting of the Snark actually **wanted **to 'softly and suddenly vanish away', because the Snark was definitely a boojum. Oh, God, was it ever._

With a conscious effort, Daria thrust away her useless thoughts of the bizarre interpretation of the strange but fascinating illustration of that old, off-the-wall poem. Quinn, whose shock-induced paralysis had worn off quite quickly, dove for the floor on the non-window side of the bed.

Helen, covering her breasts with one hand and arm while lowering her hips as much as possible, swiveled her head and shoulders around and demanded, "Quinn! What are you doing in here?"

"Gaah!" Jake remarked.

Quinn, in the process of crawling under her parents' bed, screamed, "The aliens! They're here! They've come for me!"

Catching sight of Daria in the doorway, Helen rasped. "Daria! I'm going to wring your neck for terrorizing your sister with those damned alien stories! Get out of here, and take her with you!"

A multitonal whine/hum rich with harmonics, seemed to come from everywhere at once. Brightening white light poured in at the windows, tinged with bluish and reddish flashes. The source of the light was sinking lower, and now was not far above the house.

"Gaah!" Jake remarked again.

Deciding the best thing she could do was stay with Quinn, and not wanting to look at her parents any more than she absolutely had to right now, Daria hit the floor and squeezed under the bed after Quinn. There was more than enough light to see clearly, and Daria suspected that she could've seen Quinn's eyes even without it. Quinn whimpered in terror. Daria put out her hand and Quinn seized it with a grip like an arm-wrestler's.

Suddenly the bed above them rose in the air until they could have stood upright, had they wanted to. From above it came cries of surprise and fear from their parents. Quinn's grip tightened to a degree that Daria would have found incredible under normal circumstances. Her gaze fell on the door to the master bath, and she was tensing for a dash to it when she was enveloped in greenish light. Daria's hand and lower forearm were also in the light, and she could feel the pressure of it, almost as if it were sand. It seemed to squirm and grip, and Quinn's legs were squeezed together, her arms forced down to her sides, her hand pulled away from Daria's in spite of her panic-powered grip. She rose off the floor, rotated till her head pointed toward the front window, and began floating toward it, wrapped in the green beam. She seemed to be trying to struggle, but was unable to, as if bound up in invisible duct tape. She managed to turn her head a little in Daria's direction, and her terrified, pleading eyes locked onto Daria's. Daria Daria scrambled to her knees, reached up and seized her. The beam felt like a ghostly tube of toothpaste. Daria squeezed harder, and slowly her arms forced their way into the beam and got a grip on Quinn. She planted a foot on the window frame and fought against the beam's pull.Quinn slowed, but was still being pulled out. Daria planted her other foot on the windowsill and heaved backwards with all her might.

Quinn's motion halted,and Daria was even able to pull her backwards a couple of inches. From behind and above her, she heard her parents calling their names. Suddenly the window, frame and all, was wrenched out of the wall. It floated outside and then fell away into the front yard. Quinn, with Daria hanging on, floated away from the house and upwards.

Her father's head and shoulders appeared at the jagged window opening. Calling their names, he reached for them, but they were out of reach. He climbed up on the framing that had supported the window, still naked, hanging onto the side with one hand and preparing to launch himself out into space in a possibly suicidal effort to reach them. Helen appeared beside him, also still naked, seized him around the waist, and dragged him back inside. But then she leaned out the ragged opening right beside him, still calling to them, oblivious as he to their state of undress or the possibility of being seen.

_I truly hope that's not my last look at Mom and Dad,_ Daria thought. _I'd much rather remember them with their clothes on._

As they rose higher, Daria looked up into the sky. A large part of it was blocked out by a dark triangular shape directly overhead. A white, reddish, or bluish light marked each corner, and they were risint toward an open hatch from which the greenish beam was coming. Daria saw that the craft was actually quite small and conoidal in shape, and closer than she'd thought.

In seconds they rose up through the hatch into a small cabin that fit Quinn's description of a small place with blinking lights. Two aliens at the pointy end of the craft regarded them through large dark eyes. They wore silvery flight suits with dark piping, They had big heads on small bodies, small mouths, very small noses, and no external ears. Their fingers were very long and thin, and their skin was grayish with silvery highlights. _Oh, crap,_ thought Daria, feeling her sphincter tighten, _Captured by the Grays. I am so gonna get probed._

She sent them a mental command to put them back in the house, but there was no reaction. She tried to make one hit the other, but that failed as well.

The two Grays were twittering and gesturing, pointing at them and toward a small alcove at the rear of the cabin, pointing upwards, holding up either one or two fingers. One of them operated some controls. They were guided into the empty space and held there, immobile. They continued their discussion. Daria was just wondering if she should let go of Quinn and attempt to force them to land their craft when one of them punched a button on the control panel. An unbearably bright light seemed to shine through her skull and into her brain---

End of Chapter Eight

End of Part One

--o0o--


	9. Chapter Nine

ESTRANGESTERS  
Chapter 9  
—o0o—

Daria awoke. She was wearing an ill-fitting sleeveless garment made of some stiff scratchy white fabric– and nothing else. It came down about halfway to her knees and looked like a very large pillowcase with armholes and a neck hole. Quinn lay beside her, unconscious, similarly clothed. _Well, here we are,_ she thought. _Now I'll find out how colossal a blunder I've made._

"You are awake. You will answer my question."

Turning her head toward the strange-sounding voice, Daria beheld a small, stocky anthropoid creature dressed as she was. He was not the same species as the crew of the small craft that had abducted them. Somewhat less than three feet tall, his arms and what she could see of his legs were massively muscled for his size. Lines in his face gave him a middle-aged look. A heavy brow ridge wrapped around the front of his head and disappeared behind his ears. Or maybe it was the way his skull was configured to serve as a natural helmet. A mat of grayish-brown hair like fine coil springs covered the top and sides of his head down to the brow. Daria got the impression that breaking a baseball bat over his head would just make him angry. He didn't look angry now, though. Daria thought he looked vaguely sad and sympathetic. He spoke again.

"When transported, your body contained a quantity of uranium compounds." He gestured behind him at an alcove very much like the one in the rear of the cabin of the Grays' craft, but larger. A transporter? "Do you require these compounds to live? You will answer."

"No, I would be better off without those compounds."

"What means 'better off'?"

Daria's gaze traveled along the wall behind the creature, over banks and panels of what were probably controls and readouts, to another similar creature seated on a small pedestal-mounted chair in front of them. "In better health," she answered.

"Understood. Will this other also be in better health without these compounds?"

"Yes."

"That is good. You are now without those compounds. The other is without those compounds since last day. For security, this transporter receiver is not stocked with fission elements. You will awaken the other now."

Daria felt a pulse of joy shoot through her. The uranium was gone! Slightly dazed, she reached over and gently shook Quinn's shoulder. Quinn jerked awake, looked around in a panic, and would have screamed when she saw the aliens had not Daria put a hand over her mouth.

The little alien began to speak again, as if reciting something he'd said many times before. "You are now slaves of the Slaver Mantoids, and you will remain so as long as you live. Resignation and acceptance are your best course. If you obey and please your masters, your treatment will not be unnecessarily harsh. If you disobey, you will receive pain. If you continue to disobey, you will be eaten, or made sport of and then eaten."

"Are... are you a Slaver Mantoid?" Quinn asked.

He seemed irritated. "No. Do I look mantoid to you? That is descriptive name coined by one of your race. The Slaver Mantoids are insect-like race, look like mantises. They live by enslaving and using other intelligent and semi-intelligent races. I am member of one of those other races. We call ourselves Remm Polyu, but you may call us gnomes for convenience. That name also is suggested by one of you."

"Uh, are there Slaver Mantoids on this ship?"

"Yes, are. Not many, but enough. They command by telepathy. If they are in physical contact with the slave, their control is absolute." His face assumed a cofiguration that seemed to be a smile. "I know what you are think. Organize, revolt, free ourselves. Not possible. Only a race with mental abilities similar to Mantoids', or a race able of resist their mental control can successfully revolt. I have been slave for... many years now, and seen several attempted revolts fail. I have seen them find and enslave two other races before we came this system, mine and the water creatures. Neither of us, nor any of the other races, were able to resist their enslaving mental ability, even though our intelligence is greater than the Mantoids', and my race is technologically much superior. If you hope for freedom someday, you must stay alive until the Slaver Mantoids try conquer a species with mental power to resist them. To stay alive you must obey and be useful enough that they do not eat you.

"You have one third of sleep period left. Then small time to nourish, excrete, and clean self. Then you get orders. Now, probably briefing and tests. Later, work. Obey and be useful. Come. You sleep now with other humans." He stepped around them and opened a door to a large holding area with a padded floor.

Daria touched his shoulder and said, "Wait. What is your name? How can I contact you?" As she did so, there was a flash of connection, as if his mind had winked on before her inner eye like a light bulb.

He didn't seem to have noticed it. "I watch you. Maybe I contact you. Go in now."

He waited until Daria and Quinn entered the enclosure, closed the door, then turned and spoke briefly to the gnome on duty at the control panel. The words were strange, but the meaning was: "You did well to call me. Anyone on board unknown to the Slavers could be useful to us. I return at shift change." He then left. Daria sorted through the impressions she'd picked up from his mind during their brief contact. He'd been high in the ship's chain of command before the Slavers had captured it, perhaps even the Captain. He still had great responsibility. He hated the Slavers and would die fighting them if he thought there was a realistic chance of winning and taking the ship back. She hoped she'd see him again soon.

Through the enclosure's metal mesh, she turned her attention to the gnome at the control panel and was pleased to find that she could now contact his mind also. Mind contact with the older gnome resulting from physical contact seemed to have given her a reference and enabled her to tune into the minds of other gnomes. This one seemed less experienced and more timid. He was unhappy about his situation, about all the comrades he'd lost to the Slavers, about the prospect of dying and being eaten himself sooner or later, and about how much more he had to work now because of attrition among his mates. There were vague thoughts of sympathy for the humans, tempered with relief that the Slavers had found a species they considered tastier than gnome. There were vague worries about the dwindling supplies of food and spare parts, and a wish that his watch would be over so that he could escape into sleep for a little while.

_I wonder where they come from,_ Daria thought, _and whether their whole species has been subjugated by the Slavers. Their home world probably has a higher gravity than Earth, judging by their short, stocky build, and the way their heads seem designed like helmets. The gravity in this ship seems set at about three-fourths Earth normal. I bet that's where the Slaver Mantoids want it. If so, maybe the Mantoids can't take the gravity on the gnomes' home world. It's probably asking too much to hope that they can't take Earth's gravity._

Daria looked around the dimly lit room and, after a minute, spotted Jane. Stepping around and over other sleepers, she knelt and put a hand on her friend's shoulder. Jane started and her eyes flew open.

"Hey, Jane, you okay?" she whispered.

"Daria! Oh, no, they got you too."

"Naah. I came to rescue you."

Jane smirked in the gloom. "Aren't you a little short to be an Imperial Stormtrooper?"

Getting the movie reference, Daria snickered. "God, I'm so glad to see you! When you went missing, I was so upset, the other students couldn't stand being in the same room with me. Li gave me the day off to get me off school grounds."

"You gotta teach me how to do that one. I don't suppose you could do it here, could you? Make the aliens not be able to stand being in the same spaceship with us?"

"Hmm, maybe. Tell me what's happened to you so far."

"Tests. Strange tests, stupid tests, gross, disgusting tests, painful tests, horrible tests. Some worse than the probing, if you can imagine that."

"'Fraid not. I haven't been probed."

"Yes, you have. That's the first thing they do to all of us, but most of us don't remember. Then they put us back and analyze the results, and some of us they pick up again, the next night or later. That's where we get these half-healed cuts," Jane said, pointing to the one on her neck.

"I didn't go through that. Quinn has, though. When they took her the second night, I grabbed onto her and we were both pulled out the window, and both transported up here." Daria showed both sides of her own neck, neither of which bore a mark.

"They were kidnapping Quinn? Not you? And you grabbed..." Jane almost wept, "Daria, you idiot! You didn't have to be here!"

"I told you. I came to rescue you."

Jane stared at Daria in amazement. "You did, didn't you? You actually did."

"Yes. And Quinn, and everybody else. Actually, it'll have to be a case of all of us rising up, taking over the ship, and saving the world. So that's the plan, for now anyway."

Jane shook her head. "You know, on the one hand, I'm thinking, 'This girl is obviously stark raving mad,' and on the other hand I'm thinking, 'if the only way for humans to board this ship is the way you did it, and if they can't bring any weapons, who'd be the best person to send?' And I can't think of anyone better than you. I just wish you'd had more time to develop those weird powers of yours. The Slaver Mantoids are a whole lot bigger than roaches."

"I haven't seen one yet."

"Just picture a burly seven-foot praying mantis and you're pretty close."

"Yikes. Well, my power curve turned up sharply yesterday, especially after I found out they'd gotten you, and I improved my control a lot, too. And I expect to continue to improve. What I need now is information."

"Like what?"

"I need to know their plans in much greater detail. I need to know what they've got in mind for us after the testing and training, and I need to know if they've got other groups of humans somewhere on board that they're doing other stuff with."

Quinn had been listening in. Now she said, "I don't get it, Daria. I thought you were gonna get us away from them or take over the little UFO or something. Why'd you let us be captured without a fight?"

"Just because I haven't done anything yet doesn't mean I'm not going to. I had to get aboard this ship. I couldn't do anything from the ground."

A forlorn spark of hope flickered in Quinn's eyes. "Oh. Uh, so... what are you gonna do now?"

"First, I'm going to gather information. You do the same. Go where they tell you, do what they tell you. Watch and listen. We need more information to develop a plan."

"Oh, you're just trying to get me to believe there's hope when there isn't. We're unarmed, we're prisoners on an enemy Death Star or whatever, way the hell out in space, and they're going to make slaves out of us and then eat us! Where's the hope in that?"

"The hope is, Quinn, that a team of Earth's most cunning and powerful clandestine operatives have managed to get aboard this ship, and are even now preparing to capture it and wreck the aliens' invasion plans. Oh, and by the way, we are now uranium free, thanks to that transporter we came up on."

"For real?" Daria nodded. "Fantastic! And these guys, who are they? Where are they? How do you know about them?"

"Shhh! Keep it down! The aliens might be listening! Now, what I want you to do is find out all you can about how big this ship is, how many Slaver Mantoids are on it, how many slave aliens, how many humans in how many groups, and where they're kept. Also anything you can find out about the Mantoids' plans. And start working your popularity voodoo on all the humans you can, and start trying it out on the alien slaves, so you can get them all to act together when the time comes. Got it?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"You can start now. Those guys behind us have been trying to listen to us. Introduce yourself and be popular. Remember, not a word about the secret superheros, not yet."

Quinn nodded and scooted closer to a couple of boys and a girl who'd been covertly watching them. Daria laid down to try to get what rest she could. Jane moved her lips close to Daria's ear and murmured, "What happens when she realizes you two are the secret superheros?"

Daria sighed. "I don't know. I hope I can build up her confidence before then."

Jane sighed. "I almost wish I didn't know. It'd be nice to believe that there was a squad of Earth's finest commandos aboard this ship scoping things out, getting ready to make their move."

Daria gazed at the outline of Jane's head for a couple of seconds, then said, "Oh, that's right, I haven't told you about yesterday. Imagine that I'm an expert marksman and that I have an invisible, totally silent rifle and lots of ammo. That's in addition to my puppeteer power, which has improved, plus I now have the ability to project my thoughts and emotions, although I don't know how much good that's going to be. So the commandos are here, it's just a small squad."

Jane gaped for a few seconds, then "Daria, are you joshing me to try to make me feel better?"

"No. Yesterday I was attacked by a large pack of feral dogs down by the quarry, three dozen or more. I killed them all before they could reach me, some by making their heads explode. I could make your head explode too, but... tell you what. I'm cutting off blood circulation to your left foot."

Jane gave a little gasp. "Oh, man, I can feel it! My foot's going to sleep!"

"Okay, I'm releasing it. Just as I squeezed off that artery, I can squeeze off any other artery in your body or brain... or slash it open."

"Wow, that's telekinesis, right? So you can move things around with your mind? How much weight can you lift? Can you bend spoons?"

The question surprised Daria. She hadn't thought about it in those terms. She'd been thinking about it in relation to the roach's head exploding when she'd given it that forceful stop command. But Jane was right. It **was** telekinesis.

"I don't know," she said softly. "I just got it. I'll have to experiment with it."

—o0o—

_Daria curled up on the padded floor and got as comfortable as she could without a pillow. Jane's words, spoken half in jest, came back to her. Was I really stark raving mad to have done this? Should I have just let Quinn go, try to forget about everyone who's been snatched, and hope the aliens didn't come back for me? No. I couldn't do that. The Slaver Mantoids intended to conquer Earth and enslave all humanity. Of course, I didn't know that when I grabbed onto Quinn and rode her out the window. Should I have just attempted to take over the two Grays and force them to land their small cone-shaped craft? The Slavers would probably make a special effort to capture me, to find out who this unexpected new opponent was and what her capabilities were._

_But maybe with actual live captured aliens and an operational alien craft, the military would be able to mount an effective defense._ Daria thought about that. _Surely the US, with cooperation from nearly all other significant military powers, should be able to defend Earth from conquest by one alien craft, even a very big one. On the other hand many people, not all of whom were nuts like Artie, think the US government already has those things. If so, they aren't currently doing much to halt the abductions. Besides which, the Slavers aren't planning a Normandy-style invasion, something the military might be able to deal with._

_So the question becomes, am I mad to think I can do anything useful? Maybe. That remains to be seen. Am I crazy to try?_ Daria opened an eye and glanced over at Jane. **_No_**.

—o0o—


End file.
